I 



A DICTIONARY 

OF 

SHAKSPERE QUOTATIONS; 

BEING A COLLECTION OF THE MAXIMS, PROVERBS, AND MOST 

REMARKABLE PASSAGES IN THE PLAYS AND 

POEMS OF SHAKSPERE; 

arrange in &lpjjfliutturi nrbt\ 

BY C. J. WALBRAN. 



All rests with those who read. A work or thought 
Is what each makes it to himself, and may 
Be full of great dark meanings, like the sea, 
With shoals of life rushing ; or like the air, 
Benighted with the wing of the wild dove, 
Sweeping miles broad o'er the far western woods, 
With mighty glimpses of the central light — 
Or may be nothing — bodiless, spiritless. 

Bailey's Festus. 




LONDON: 

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND CO. 

RIPON : WILLIAM HARRISON. 

MDCCCXLIX. 



|h*fan. 



It has often occurred to me, since my attention was first 
more particularly directed to the study of Shakspere, that a 
comprehensive collection of Quotations from his Plays and 
Poems, which might be fairly understood by the ordinary 
reader, without reference to character or plot — including, with 
the various Maxims and Proverbs, all those passages remark- 
able for their poetic grace or general truth — would form an 
instructive and entertaining volume, universal in its interest 
and application.* 

To those conversant with the glorious works which, from 
their own inherent vitality, must endure as long as the con- 
stitution of man and the world of nature, a collection of Quo- 
tations like the present may be acceptable as an embodiment 
of the gems of thought and fancy of " the myriad-minded 
man, our, and all men's, Shakspere " ; and also as a remem- 
brancer of many a sententious " thing of beauty," which may 
linger but indistinctly on the memory, but which however 

* It is said of two very celebrated men — the learned Porson and the illustrious 
Erskine — that, so familiar were they with Shakspere, they could almost have held 
conversations on all subjects for days tog-ether, in the phrases of the great dramatist. 
There needs no more than the bare mention of this fact, to prove the comprehensive 
and general applicability of his writings. 






familiarly retained, has always, when presented to the mind, 
the charm of novelty, and the freshness which time can neither 
weaken nor destroy : — while to such as are unacquainted with 
the writings of Shakspere, it may serve to display, in some 
measure, the intellectual riches of the chief of the great bro- 
therhood of poets, at the same time, that it affords subjects for 
thought and matter of entertainment, which for their ade- 
quate understanding and appreciation, demand the active ex- 
ercise of the highest and best faculties of the mind and heart. 

That the " Dictionary of Quotations " may be sometimes 
made available as a work of reference, each selected passage 
is arranged in alphabetical order, the note and figures in the 
margin indicating the act and scene of the particular work 
from which it is taken. 

In what manner I have fulfilled my self-appointed task, it 
is for the intelligent reader to decide. Whatever conclusion 
he may come to, it will be no less true that an affectionate 
reverence for, and admiration of, the genius of Shakspere, 
has all along animated my endeavours. Whatever faults, 
whether of omission or commission, may be discovered in the 
compilation of this work, assuredly unwillingness or neglect 
are not among them. To ensure the exertion of our utmost 
efforts, there is nothing like undertaking " the labour we de- 
light in" ; and mine, like Macbeth's professed loyalty and 
service to Duncan, in the doing it, has paid itself. It has 
been throughout a most pleasing occupation. To note down, 
one by one, the numerous passages which are here collected 
and presented to the reader ; to regard them in their un- 
equalled variety and surpassing excellence ; to be instructed 
by their profundity of wisdom and acuteness of observation ; 
to be enlivened by the gaiety of their wit, or elevated into 



the world of poetry and imagination through their beauty and 
refinement ; could not but render the labour of transcribing 
and arranging them, at once alluring and delightful. 

Although it would be but to estimate Shakspere very su- 
perficially, were we to judge of the nature and extent of his 
vast powers from any number of detached passages, (however 
brilliant or commendable in themselves) unconnectedly taken 
from his works ; still, we are able to discover, and that most 
abundantly, in such a selection as the present, all those qual- 
ities which are in the highest degree characteristic of the poet 
and the philosopher. They furnish us with more than suffi- 
cient evidence, that " Shakspere has reflected and deeply re- 
flected, on character and passion, on the progress of events 
and human destinies, on the human constitution, on all the 
things and relations of the world." 

Generally adapted under all circumstances for all conditions 
of men, they may, at any time, be referred to with pleasure 
and profit ; abounding in precepts of morality, and axioms of 
practical wisdom and contemplative philosophy, there is in 
them " life and food " which may cheer, and comfort, and 
sustain us, in our pilgrimage through the world. 

C. J. W. 

Ripon, December, 1848. 



1 Dtrtrannnr nf 



itjukspm (kttntittinuii, kt 



A. 



As in the sweetest bud 
1 The eating canker dwells, so eating love 
Inhabits in the finest wits of all. 



As the most forward bud 
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, 
Even so, by love, the young and tender wit 
Is turn'd to folly ; blasting in the bud, 
Losing his verdure even in the prime, 
And all the fair effects of future hopes, 



A woman's reason; 
I think him so, because I think him so. 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

Act i. — Scene 1. 



i.— 2. 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

ii.— 5. 


A man is never undone till he be hanged ; nor 




never welcome to a place, till some certain shot 




be paid, and the hostess say, Welcome. 


ii— 7. 


A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary 




To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps. 


iii — 1. 


A woman sometimes scorns what best contents 




her. 


Comedy of Er- 
rors. 

ii.— 1. 


A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity, 




We bid be quiet when we hear it cry ; 




But were we burthen' d with like weight of pain, 




As much, or more, we should ourselves complain. 


Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

i.— 1. 


All delights are vain ; and that most vain, 




Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain. 


ii.— 1. 
iv.— 1. 


All pride is willing pride. 


A giving hand, though foul, shall have fair praise. 


iv.— 3. 


A lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind ; 




A lover's ear will hear the lowest sound, 


v.— 2. 


When the suspicious head of theft is stopp'd. 


A light heart lives long. 



A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue. 


Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

v.-2. 


A jest's prosperity lies in the ear 




Of him that hears it, never in the tongue 




Of him that makes it. 


All ? TT IT TM-* « i. 




All s W ell 1 hat 
Ends Well. 


Aged honour cites a virtuous youth. 


i. — 3. 


A young man married is a man that 's marr'd.* 


ii. — 3. 


A good traveller is something at the latter end of 


11.— 5. 


a dinner ; but one that lies three-thirds, and 




uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings 




with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. 




All 's well that ends well : still the fine 's the 


iv. — 4. 


crown ; 




Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. 




A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery 


iv. — 5. 


of honour. 




All impediments in fancy's course 


v.— 3. 


Are motives of more fancy. 




* A woman, says Burton, in his " Anatomy of Melancholy," a 




man may eschue, but not a wife : wedding is undoing (some say) 




marrying, marring : wooing, woing. 





A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

ii. — 3 



Taming of the 
Shrew. 



v.— 2. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 

i.-3. 



A surfeit of the sweetest things, 
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings. 



Affection is not rated from the heart. 



A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled, 
Muddy, ill- seeming, thick, bereft of beauty ; 
x\nd, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty, 
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. 
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, 
Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee, 
And for thy maintenance : commits his body 
To painful labour, both by sea and land ; 
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, 
While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ; 
And craves no other tribute at thy hands, 
But love, fair looks, and true obedience, — 
Too little payment for so great a debt. 
Such duty as the subject owes the prince, 
Even such a woman oweth to her husband ; 
And when she 's fro ward, peevish, sullen, sour, 
And not obedient to his honest will, 
What is she, but a foul contending rebel, 
And graceless traitor to her loving lord ? 



An evil soul producing holy witness 
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek ; 
A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! 



All things that are, 
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy' d. 


Merchant of 
Venice. 

ii. — 6. 
ii. — 7. 

v.— 1. 

Much Ado About 
Nothing-. 

i.— 1. 

ii.— 3. 

iii. — 5. 

Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

i.— 1. 


A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross. 


All that glisters is not gold. 


A substitute shines brightly as a king 
Until a king be by ; and then his state 
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook 
Into the main of waters. 


A light wife doth make a heavy husband. 


A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings 
home full numbers. 


A man loves the meat in his youth that he can- 
not endure in his age. 


An two men ride of a horse, one must ride be- 
hind. 


A justice of peace sometime may be beholden to 
his friend for a man. 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

i.— 3. 



Twelfth Night. 
i 5. 



in.— 1. 



As You Like It. 
ii. — 3. 



ii. — 4. 



ii.— 7. 



An old cloak makes a new jerkin ; a withered 
servingman a fresh tapster. 



A drunken man is like a drowned man, a fool, 
and a madman : one draught above heat makes 
him a fool ; the second mads him ; and a third 
drowns him. 



A sentence is but a cheveril glove* to a good wit : 
How quickly the wrong side may be turnec 
outward ! 



A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon 
Than love that would seem hid : love's night is j 
noon. 



At seventeen years, many their fortunes seek ; 
But at fourscore, it is too late a week. 



As all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love 
mortal in folly. f 



All the world 's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players : 
They have their exits, and their entrances ; 
And one man, in his time, plays many parts, 

* A cheveril glove— a. kid glove. t Mortal in folly — very foolish. 



His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms : 
Then, the whining schoolboy, with his satchel, 
And shining morning face, creeping like snail 
Unwillingly to school : and then, the lover, 
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad 
Made to his mistress' eyebrow : Then, a soldier ; 
Full of strange oaths,* and bearded like the pard, 
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, 
Seeking the bubble reputation 
Even in the cannon's mouth : and then, the jus- 
tice, 
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, 
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, 
Full of wise saws and modern instances, 
And so he plays his part : The sixth age shifts 
Into the lean and slipper d pantaloon ; 
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; 
His youthful hose well sav'd, a world too wide 
For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, 

* Knight's Pictorial History of England furnishes the following 
illustration of this expression : " The practice of profane swearing 
in common conversation seems now (latter part of 16th century) to 
have reached its height in England. The courtiers swore by such 
oaths as were current with the sovereigns, the royal favourites and 
the chief nobles ; the clergy swore by the saints, the mysteries of 
religion, or the duties of their calling; the scholars swore by the 
classical gods of Olympus ; and soldiers were ' full of strange oaths,' 
compounded of fire, blood, and havoc, that marked their profession 
as distinctly as the buff belt or the corslet. This last kind of swear- 
ing was carefully conned by all swaggerers and swash-bucklers, and 
used as a proof of their hardihood ; so that a man was reckoned a 
mere coward, * who could not interlace every sentence with a bloody 
oath or two.' " 



As You Like It. 



As You Like It. 
ii. — 7. 



iv.— 1. 

Measure for 
Measure. 

i.— 3. 



ii.— 2. 



Turning again toward childish treble, pipes 
And whistles in his sound : Last scene of all, 
That ends this strange eventful history, 
Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; 
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. 



All 's brave that youth mounts, and folly guides. 



A woman's thought runs before her actions. 



As surfeit is the father of much fast, 
So every scope, by the immoderate use, 
Turns to restraint : Our natures do pursue 
(Like rats that ravin down their proper bane) 
A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die. 



After execution, judgment hath 
Repented o'er his doom. 



All the souls that were, were forfeit once ; 
And He that might the vantage best have took, 
Found out the remedy : How would you be, 
If He, which is the top of judgment, should 
But judge you as you are ? 



Authority, though it err like others, 
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, 



10 



That skins the vice o' the top. 


Measure for 
M easure. 

ii.— 2. 
iv.— 2. 

iv.— 4. 

A Winter's Tale, 
i.— 2. 

ii.— 1. 
iv.— 2. 

iv.— 3. 


All difficulties are but easy when they are 
known, 


j Alack, when once our grace we have forgot, 
Nothing goes right ; we would, and we would not. 


A lady's verily is 
As potent as a lord's. 


A sad tale 's best for winter. 


A merry heart goes all the day, 
Your sad tires in a mile-a. 


An art 
Which, does mend nature, — change it rather: but 
The art itself is nature. 


A father 
Is, at the nuptial of his son, a guest 
That best becomes the table. 


As the unthought-on accident is guilty 
To what we wildly do, so we profess 



11 



A Winter's Tale, 
iv.— 3. 

King John 
iii. — i. 

King Richard 11. 
i.—3. 

ii. — 1. 

King Henry IV. 
Part 1.— iii.— 2. 

v.— 2. 
Part 2.— i,— 2. 


Ourselves to be the slaves of chance, and flies 
Of every wind that blows. 


Affliction may subdue the cheek, 
But not take in the mind. 


A sceptre, snatch' d with an unruly hand, 
Must be as boisterously maintain' d as gain d : 
And he that stands upon a slippery place, 
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. 


A little snow, tumbled about, 
Anon becomes a mountain. 


All places that the eye of heaven visits 
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. 


All too late comes counsel to be heard, 
Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. 


Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. 


Arms are fair, 
When the intent for bearing them is just. 


A good wit will make use of anything. 



12 



A habitation giddy and unsure. 


King Henry IV. 
Part 2. — i. — 3. 


Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. 




A good heart 's worth gold. 


ii. — 4. 


A man can die but once. 


iii.— 2. 


A rotten case abides no handling. 


iv.— 1. 


Against ill chances, men are ever merry ; 


iv.— 2. 


But heaviness foreruns the good event. 




A peace is of the nature of a conquest ; 




For, then both parties nobly are subdued, 




And neither party loser. 









A friend i' the court is better than a penny in 
purse. 



An honest man is able to speak for himself, when 
a knave is not. 



A good conscience will make any possible satis- 
faction. 



Advantage is a better soldier than rashness. 



v.— 1. 



Epilogue. 



King Henry V. 
iii. — 6. 



13 



King Henry V. 

iii. — t. i A fool's bolt is soon shot. 



v. -2. 



King- Henry VI. 
Part 2.— i.— 2. 



iii.— 1. 



All offences come from the heart. 



A good leg will fall ; a straight back will stoop ; 
a black beard will turn white ; a curled pate 
will grow bald ; a fair face will wither ; a full 
eye will wax hollow ; but a good heart is the 
sun and the moon ; or, rather, the sun, and not 
the moon ; for, it shines bright, and never 
changes, but keeps his course truly. 



v.— 1. 



Part 3.— iv— 8. 



King- Richard 

ILL 

i.— 3. 



A crafty knave does need no broker. 



A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. 



A staff is quickly found to beat a dog. 



A subtle traitor needs no sophister. 



A little fire is quickly trodden out ; 
Which, being suffer' d, rivers cannot quench. 



A virtuous and a christian-like conclusion, 
To pray for them that have done scath to us. 



14 



A begging prince, what beggar pities not ? 


King Richard 
III. 

i.— 4. 
iv. — 4, 


A grandam's name is little less in love, 


Than is the doting title of a mother. 




An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. 


A beggar's book 


j\ing" o enry 
VIII. 

i.— 1. 


Out-worths a noble's blood. 




Anger is like 


A full-hot horse ; who being allow'd his way, 




Self-mettle tires him. 


iii. — 1. 

v.— 1. 


All hoods make not monks.* 


Affairs that walk 


(As, they say, spirits do) at midnight, have 
In them a wilder nature, than the business 




That seeks despatch by day. 


Romeo & Juliet. 




At lovers' perjuries, 


ii. — 2. 


They say, Jove laughs. 


ii. — 6. 


A lover may bestride the gossamers 


* Shakspere quotes the Latin Proverb — " Cucullus non facit 
monacJtum" — Twelfth Night — i. — 5.; and Measure for Measure — 




v.— 1. 





15 



Romeo & Juliet. 
ii. — G. 

Hamlet, 
i.— 2. 

i— 3. 
ii.-4 

iii. — i. 

iv.— 2. 
iv.— 3. 

v.— 2. 

Cymbeline. 
iv.— I. 

iv.— 2. 


That idle in the wanton summer air, 
And yet not fall ; so light is vanity. 


All that live must die, 
Passing through nature to eternity. 


A double blessing is a double grace. 


An old man is twice a child. 


Assume a virtue if you have it not. 


A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear. 


A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a 
king ; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that 
worm. 


A man's life "s no more than to say, one. 


A woman's fitness comes by fits. 


All solemn things 
Should answer solemn accidents. 



16 



An thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou 'It 
catch cold shortly. 



I Anger hath a privilege. 



A good man's fortune may grow out at heels. 



All that follow their noses are led by their eyes, 
but blind men. 



All 's not offence that indiscretion finds, 
And dotage terms so. 



As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods ; 
They kill us for their sport. 



A man may see how this world goes, with no 
eyes.*' Look with thine ears : see how yon' 

* The facts of the following- story are taken from Mrs. Dobson's 
Life of Petrarch. It is an apt and pointed illustration of the asser- 
tion — M A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes " — as well 
as curious and interesting in itself. 

A schoolmaster of Pontremoli, old and blind, who knew Petrarch 
only by fame, was desirous to see him, as he expressed it; and being 
informed he was at Naples, the old man set out on foot for that 
place, supporting himself on his son's shoulder. He got there too 
late ; for, Petrarch had departed for Rome. The aged enthusiast 
went immediately to Rome, but not finding Petrarch there, he re- 
turned to Pontremoli. When he heard that the poet had stopped at 
Parma, he resolved to go there, notwithstanding the difficulties 



King Lear. 



ii. — 2. 



iv.-l. 



iv.— 6. 



17 



King Lear, 
iv.— G. 



Macbeth, 
iv.— 3, 



rimon of Athens 
ii— 2. 



justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in 
thine ear : Change places ; and, handy-dandy, 
which is the justice, which is the thief? Thou 
hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar ; and 
the creature run from the cur ? There thou 
might' st behold the great image of authority : 
a dog 's obeyed in office. 



A good and virtuous nature may recoil, 
In an imperial charge. 



Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell : 
Though all things foul would wear the brows of 

grace, 
Yet grace must still look so. 



A noble nature 
May catch a wrench. 

which he must encounter in crossing the Appenines, which were 
then entirely covered with snow. When he arrived at Parma, and 
was introduced to Petrarch, he gave himself up to the most excessive 
transports. The enthusiastic singularity of his conduct during the 
three days he stayed at Parma, greatly excited the curiosity of the 
inhabitants. One day, in the presence of the croAvd that usually 
attended him, the blind man said to Petrarch, " 1 fear I am a burden 
to you ; but I cannot satisfy myself with beholding you, and it is but 
just you should suffer me to enjoy a pleasure for which I have tra- 
velled so far." The word behold, in the mouth of a blind man, 
having raised peals of laughter among those by whom he was sur- 
rounded, he turned towards Petrarch, and said, " I take you for my 
witness ; is it not true that, blind as I am, I see you better than all 
those laughers, who look at you with both their eyes ? " 



18 



A prodigal course 
Is like the sun's ; but not, like his, recoverable. 



At all times alike, 
Men are not still the same. 



A stirring dwarf we do allowance give 
Before a sleeping giant. 



Timon of Athens 



A woman impudent and mannish grown, 
Is not more loath' d than an effeminate man 
In time of action. 



A plague of opinion ! a man may wear it on both 
sides, like a leather jerkin. 



A fish hangs in the net like a poor man's right in 
the law ; 't will hardly come out. 



As jewels lose their glory, if neglected, 
So princes their renown, if not respected. 



A very little thief of occasion will rob you of a 
great deal of patience. 



Action is eloquence. 



19 



v.— 2. 



Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 



ii.— 3. 



ill. — 3. 



Pericles. 
ii. — 1. 



ii.— 2. 



Coriolanus. 
ii. — 1. 



iii. — 2. 



Julius Caesar, 
iv.— 3. 

Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

iii. — 1. 



Venus & Adonis. 



A friend should bear his friend's infirmities. 



A lower place, note well, 
May make too great an act. 



The 
Ilape of Lucrece. 



Sonnets. 
138. 



The 
Passionate Pil- 
grim. 



An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd, 
Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage : 
So of concealed sorrow may be said ; 
Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage ; 

But when the heart's attorney once is mute, 
The client breaks, as desperate in his suit. 



A smile recures the wounding of a frown. 



Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward, 
But then wooes best, when most his choice is fro- 
war d. 



All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth. 



Against love's fire, fear's frost hath dissolution. 



A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests. 



Age in love loves not to have years told. 



A cripple soon can find a halt. 



20 



B. 

Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes. 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

v.— 2. 

v.-4. 

Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

ii.— 1. 

iv.— 3. 

A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

ii.— 2 

Much Ado About 

Nothing. 

ii.— 1. 

Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

v.-3. 


Better have none 
Than plural faith, which is too much by one. 


Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, 
Not utter'd by base sale of chapmen's tongues. 


Beauty doth varnish age, as if new-born, 
And gives the crutch the cradle's infancy. 
0, 'tis the sun that maketh all things shine ! 

Bootless speed ! 
When cowardice pursues, and valour flies. 


Beauty is a witch, 
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. 


Better a little chiding than a great deal of heart- 
break. 



21 



Twelfth Night, j 

i.— 5. I Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. 



As You Like It. ■ 

*•— 3 - ! Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. 



Ii. — 7. 



King John 
iii. — 4. 



King Richard II. 
ii.— 1. 



Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
Thou art not so unkind 

As man's ingratitude ; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 

Although thy breath be rude. 
Heigh ho ! sing, heigh ho ! unto the green holly : 
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere 
folly. 

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
Thou dost not bite so nigh 

As benefits forgot : 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 

As friend remember'd not. 
Heigh ho ! sing, heigh ho ! &c. 



Before the curing of a strong disease, 
Even in the instant of repair and health, 
The fit is strongest ; evils that take leave, 
On their departure most of all show evil. 



By bad courses may be understood, 
That their events can never fall out good. 



22 



Beauty's princely majesty is such, 
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses 
rough . 



Blessed are the peacemakers on earth. 



Beggars, mounted, run their horse to death. 



Kiag Henry VI. 
Part 1.— v.— 3. 



Part 2,— ii.— 1. 



By a divine instinct, men's minds mistrust 
Ensuing danger ; as, by proof, we see 
The waters swell before a boist'rous storm. 



Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud. 



Best safety lies in fear ; 
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. 



Brevity is the soul of wit, 
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes. 



Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou 
shalt not escape calumny. 



Bless'd are those, 
Whose blood and judgment are so well comingled, 
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger 
To sound what stop she please. 



Part 3.— i.- 



King Richard 

III. 

ii.— 3. 



Borneo £z Juliet. 
ii.— 2. 



Hamlet, 
i.— 3. 



ii.— 2. 



iii. — 1. 



23 



Hamlet. 
iii. — 2. 


By and by is easily said. 


Cymbeline. 
v.— 5. 

Othello. 
ii. — 1. 


By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death 
Will seize the doctor too. 


Base men being in love, have then a nobility in 


King Lear. 


their natures more than is native to them. 




iv.— 1. 


Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow, 


Macbeth, 
iii. — 4. 


Ang'ring itself and others. 


Blood will have blood : 




Stones have been known to move, and trees to 




speak ; 
Augurs, and understood relations, have 




By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought 
forth 


iv.— 3. 


The secret'st man of blood. 


Boundless intemperance 
In nature is a tyranny ; it hath been 




The untimely emptying of the happy throne, 
And fall of many kings. 


Troilus and Cres- 
sida. 

i.— 3. 




Blunt wedges rive hard knots. 


iii.— 2. 


Blind fear, that seeing reason leads, finds safer 



24 



footing than blind reason stumbling without 
fear : To fear the worst oft cures the worse. 



Between the acting of a dreadful thing 
And the first motion, all the interim is 
Like a phantasm a, or a hideous dream : 
The genius and the mortal instruments 
Are then in council ; and the state of a man, 
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
The nature of an insurrection. 



" But yet " is as a gaoler to bring forth 
Some monstrous malefactor. 



Better to leave undone, than by our deed 
Acquire too high a fame, when him we serve 's 
away. 



Bid that welcome 
Which comes to punish us, and we punish it, 
Seeming to bear it lightly. 



Beauty itself doth of itself persuade 
The eyes of men without an orator. 



Birds never lim'd no secret bushes fear. 



Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, 



Troilus and Cres- 
sida. 

iii. — 2. 



Julius Csesar. 
ii.— 1. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

ii.— 5. 



iii.— 1. 



iv.— 12. 



The 
i of Lucrece. 



The Passionate 
Pilgrim. 



25 



The Passionate 
Pilgrim. 



A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly ; 

A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud ; 

A brittle glass, that 's broken presently : 

A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, 
Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour. 

And as goods lost are seld or never found, 
As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh, 
As flowers dead lie wither' d on the ground, 
As broken glass no cement can redress, 

So beauty, blemish'd once, for ever 's lost, 
In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. 



26 



c. 

Cupid's buttshaft is too hard for Hercules' club. 


Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

i.— 2. 

Twelfth Night. 
i.— 3. 

Measure for 
Measure. 

ii.— 2. 

A Winter's Tale. 
ii.— 1 . 

King John. 
ii.— 1. 

King Eichard II. 
ii.— 2. 


Care 's an enemy to life. 


Could great men thunder 

As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, 
For, every pelting, petty officer 
Would use his heaven for thunder : nothing but . 
thunder. 


Calumny will sear 
Virtue itself. 


Courage mounteth with occasion. 


Conceit is still deriv'd 
From some forefather grief. 


Cozening hope ; he is a flatterer, 
A parasite, a keeper-back of death, 



27 



King Richard II. 
ii. — 2. 



King Henry V. 
ii.— 4. 



King Henry VI. 
Part 1. — iii. — 1. 



iii. — 3. 



King Richard 
III. 



i.— 3. 



Romeo & Juliet. 
ii.— 3. 



ii.— 6. 



Hamlet, 
iii.— 4. 



Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, 
Which false hope lingers in extremity. 



Coward dogs 
Most spend their mouths, when what they seem 

to threaten 
Runs far before them. 



Civil dissention is a viperous worm 

That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth. 



Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, • 
For things that are not to be remedied. 



Curses never pass 
The lips of those that breathe them in the air. 



Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, 
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie ; 
But where unbruised youth, with unstufT'd brain 
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth 
reign. 



Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, 

Brags of his substance, not of ornament : 

They are but beggars that can count their worth. 



Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. 



28 



Clay and clay differs in dignity, 
Whose dust is both alike. 


Cyinbeline. 
iv.— 2. 

King- Lear. 
iii. — 2. 

Macbeth, 
i.— 3. 

iv.— 2. 

Timon of Athens 
i.— 2. 

v.— 5. 

Coriolanus. 
iv.— 1. 


Cowards father cowards, and base things sire base : 
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace. 


Court holy-water in a dry house is better than 
rain-water out o' door. 


Come what come may, 
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. 


Cruel are the times, when we are traitors, 

And do not know ourselves ; when we hold ru- 
mour 

From what we fear; yet know not what we fear; 

But float upon a wild and violent sea, 

Each way, and move. 


Ceremony was but devis'd at first 
To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, 
Recanting goodness, sorry ere 't is shown ; 
But where there is true friendship, there needs 
none. 


Crimes, like lands, 
Are not inherited. 


Common chances common men can bear. 



29 



Julius Cojsar. 
ii.— 2. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

iii. — 7. 



A Lover's Com- 
plaint. 



The Passionate 
Pilgrim. 



Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
The valiant never taste of death but once. 
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, 
It seems to me most strange that men should 

fear; 
Seeing that death, a necessary end, 
Will come, when it will come. 



Celerity is never more admir'd 
Than by the negligent. 



Counsel may stop a while what will not stay ; 
For, when we rage, advice is often seen 
By blunting us to make our wits more keen. 



Crabbed age and youth 

Cannot live together; 
Youth is full of pleasance, 

Age is full of care : 
Youth like summer morn, 

Age like winter weather ; 
Youth like summer brave, 

Age like winter bare. 
Youth is full of sport, 
Age's breath is short; 

Youth is nimble, age is lame : 
Youth is hot and bold, 
Age is weak and cold ; 

Youth is wild, and age is tame. 



30 



D. 



Duty never yet did want his meed. 



Did'st thou but know the inly touch of love, 
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, 
As seek to quench the fire of love with words. 



Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, 

More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. 



Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. 



Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, 
The ear more quick of apprehension makes ; 
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, 
It pays the hearing double recompense. 



Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness, 
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 



ii. — 7. 



iii.— 1. 



Love's Labour ' 
Lost. 



iv.— 3. 



A Midsummer- 
Night's Dream. 

iii.— 2. 



Twelfth Night. 
ii.— 2. 



31 



As You Like It. 




iii. — .5 


Dead shepherd ! now I find thy saw of might ; 


Measure for 


" Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight ? " * 




Measure. 




iii. — 1. 


Death is a fearful thing ; 


iv.— 2. 


And shamed life a hateful. 


Death 's a great disguiser. 


A Winter's Tale. 





iii,— 3. 


Dreams are toys. 


iv.— 3. 


Daffodils, 




That come before the swallow dares, and take 




The winds of March with beauty ; violets, dim, 




But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, 


King Richard II. 


Or Cytherea's breath. 




ii— 1. 

iii.— 2. 
King Henry IV 


Direct not him, whose way himself will choose. 


Death will have his day. 




Part I.— iii.— 1. 


Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth 




In strange eruptions : oft the teeming earth 




Is with a kind of colic pinch' d and vex'd 




By the imprisoning of unruly wind 




Within her womb; which, for enlargement stri- 




ving, 




* Marlowe's " Hero and Leander." 



32 



Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down 
Steeples, and moss-grown towers. 


King- Henry IV. 
Part I.— iii. — 1. 

Kiug- Henry Via 
Part I.— iii.— 2, 

Part 2 — iv— 1. 

Part 3.— ii— 2. 

Romeo & Juliet. 
L— 4. 

Hamlet. 
iv.-3. 

Cymbeline. 
i.— 7. 


Delays have dangerous ends. 


Drones suck not eagles' blood, but rob bee-hives. 


Didst thou never hear 
That things ill got had ever bad success ? 


Dreams, 
Which are the children of an idle brain, 
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; 
Which is as thin of substance as the air ; 
And more inconstant than the wind who wooes 
Even now the frozen bosom of the north, 
And, being anger' d, puffs away from thence, 
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. 


Diseases, desperate grown, 
By desperate appliance are reliev'd, 
Or not at all. 


Doubting things go ill often hurts more 
Than to be sure they do : For, certainties 
Either are past remedies ; or, timely knowing, 
The remedy then born. 



33 



Cymbeline. 
iv.— 2. 


Defect of judgment 


Othello. 


Is oft the cause of fear. 




ii. — 3. 

iii. — 3. 


Dull not device by coldness and delay. 


Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons, 




Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste ; 




But, with a little act upon the blood, 


King Lear. 


Burn like the mines of sulphur. 




iv.— 1. 


Distribution should undo excess, 


Troilus and 
Cressida. 


And each man have enough. 




i.— 3. 


Degree being vizarded, 




The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. 




The heavens themselves, the planets and this 




centre, 




Observe degree, priority, and place, 




Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, 




Office, and custom, in all line of order : 




And therefore is the glorious planet, Sol, 




In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd 




Amidst the other ; whose med'cinable eye 




Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, 




And posts, like the commandment of a king, 




Sans check, to good and bad : But when the 




planets, 




In evil mixture, to disorder wander, 



34 



What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! 

What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! 

Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, 

Divert and crack, rend and deracinate 

The unity and married calm of states 

Quite from their fixture ! 0, when degree is 

shak'd, 
Which is the ladder to all high designs, 
The enterprise is sick ! How could communities, 
Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities, 
Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, 
The primogenitive and due of birth, 
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, 
But by degree, stand in authentic place ? 
Take but degree away, untune that string, 
And, hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets 
In mere oppugnancy : The bounded waters 
Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, 
And make a sop of all this solid globe : 
Strength should be lord of imbecility, 
And the rude son should strike his father dead : 
Force should be right; or, rather, right and 

wrong 
(Between whose endless jar justice resides) 
Should lose their names, and so should justice too. 
Then every thing includes itself in power, 
Power into will, will into appetite ; 
And appetite, an universal wolf, 
So doubly seconded with will and power, 
Must make, perforce, an universal prey, 
And, last, eat up himself. 



Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

i.— 3. 



35 



Troilus and 

Cressida. 

v.— 3. 


Do not count it holy 




To hurt by being just : it is as lawful, 




For we would give much, to count violent thefts, 


Pericles. 


And rob in the behalf of charity. 




L— 1. 


Death remember' d should be like a mirror, 




Who tells us, life's but breath; to trust it, error. 


iii.— 2. 


Death may usurp on nature many hours, 


i 


And yet the fire of life kindle again 


. 


The o'erpress'd spirits. 


Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

iv.— 12. 
i ' 

Venus & Adonis. 

The Rape of 
Lucrece. 


Death of one person can be paid but once. 


Danger deviseth shifts ; wit waits on fear. 


Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining ; 
And when great treasure is the meed propos'd, 




Though death be adjunct, there 's no death sup- 




pos'd. 


Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood, 




Who, being stopp'd, the bounding banks o'er- 




flows : 




Grief dallied with, nor law nor limit knows. 



36 



E. 

Experience is by industry achiev'd, 

And perfected by the swift course of time. 


Two Gentlemen 

of Verona. 

L— 3. 

Comedy of Errors 
ii. — 2. 

iii.—l. 

Much Ado About 
Nothing-. 

iii.— 2. 

Measure for 
Measure. 

ii.— 2. 

iv.— 2. 

A Winter's Tale. 
iv.— 3. 

The Tempest, 
ii.— 1. 


Every why hath a wherefore. 


Either at flesh or fish, 
A table full of welcome makes scarce one dainty 
dish. 


Every one can master a grief, but he that has it. 


Every fault 's condemn' d, ere it be done. 


Every true man's apparel fits your thief. 


Every lane's end, every shop, church, session, 
hanging, yields a careful man work. 


Ebbing men, indeed, 



37 



The Tempest. 
ii. — 1. 

King Bichard II. 
ii.— 1. 

ii.— 2. 

iv.— 1. 

King Henry V. 
iv.— 1. 

King Henry VI. 
Part 3.— v.— 3. 

Cymbeline. 
v.-l. 


Most often do so near the bottom run, 
By their own fear or sloth. 


England, bound in with the triumphant sea, 
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege 
Of watery Neptune. 


Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, 
Which show like grief itself, but are not so : 
For, sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, 
Divides one thing entire to many objects, 
Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon, 
Show nothing but confusion, — ey'd awry, 
Distinguish form. 


External manners of laments 
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, 
That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul : 
There lies the substance. 


Every subject's duty is the king's ; but every 
subject's soul is his own. 


Every cloud engenders not a storm. 


Every good servant does not all commands ; 
No bond, but to do just ones. 



38 



Every inordinate cup is unbless'd, and the ingre- 
dient is a devil. 



Even-handed justice 
Commends the ingredients of our poison' d chalice 
To our own lips. 



Every worth in show commends itself. 



Extremity is the trier of spirits. 



Every bondman in his own hand bears 
The power to cancel his captivity. 



Every time 
Serves for the matter that is then born in it. 



Easy it is 
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive. 



Extremity of griefs will make men mad. 



Extreme fear can neither fight nor fly ; 
But, coward-like, with trembling terror die. 



Every one that flatters thee 
Is no friend in misery. 



Othello. 
ii.-3. 



Macbeth. 
i.— 7. 



Pericles. 
ii. — 3. 



Coriolanus. 
iv.— 1. 



Julius Caesar. 
i.— 3. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

ii.— 2. 



Titus Andro- 
nicus. 
ii.-l. 



iv.— 1. 



The 
.Rape of Lucrece. 



The Passionate 
Pilgrim. 



39 



The Passionate 
Pilgrim. 



Words are easy like the wind : 
Faithful friends are hard to find. 
Every man will be thy friend, 
Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend ; 
But if store of crowns be scant, 
No man will supply thy want. 
If that one be prodigal, 
Bountiful they will him call : 
And with such-like flattering, 
" Pity but he were a king." 
If he be addict to vice 
Quickly him they will entice ; 
But if fortune once do frown, 
Then farewell his great renown ; 
They that fawn'd on him before, 
Use his company no more. 
He that is thy friend indeed, 
He will help thee in thy need ; 
If thou sorrow, he will weep ; 
If thou wake, he cannot sleep : 
Thus of every grief in heart 
He with thee doth bear a part. 
These are certain signs to know 
Faithful friend from flattering foe. 



40 



• 

F. 

Fire that 's closest kept burns most of all. 

Falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent ; 
Three things that women highly hold in hate. 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

i.— 2. 

iii.— 2. 

Comedy of Errors 
iv.— 2. 

iv — 3. 

Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

L— 1. 

iv.— 1. 
iv.— 3. 


Far from her nest the lapwing cries, away. 


Fly pride, says the peacock. 


Fat paunches have lean pates ; and dainty bits 
Make rich the ribs, but bankerout the wits. 


Fair payment for foul words is more than due. 


From women's eyes this doctrine I derive : 
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; 
They are the books, the arts, the academes, 
That show, contain, and nourish all the world. 



41 



Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 



All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 1. 



ii. — 3. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 

ii. — 5. 



Much Ado 
About Nothing. 

ii.— 1. 



Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, 
As foolery in the wise, when wit doth dote ; 
Since all the power thereof it doth apply, 
To prove, by wit, worth in simplicity. 



Fair ladies, mask'd, are roses in their bud : 
Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture 

shown, 
Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown. 



Full oft we see 
Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. 



From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, 
The place is dignified by the doer's deed : 
Where great additions swell, and virtue none, 
It is a dropsied honour : good alone 
Is good without a name ; vileness is so : 
The property by what it is should go ? 
Not by the title. 



Fast bind, fast find ; 
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. 



Friendship is constant in all other things, 
Save in the office and affairs of love. 



42 



Fools are as like husbands as pilchards are to 
herrings ; the husband 's the bigger. 


Twelfth Night. 
iii. — 1. 

As You Like It. 
i. — 2. 

Measure for 

Measure. 

i.-4. 

King John. 
v.— 7. 

King Richard II. 
i.— 3. 

iii. — S^. 

King Henry VI. 
Part I.— iii.— 1. 

Part 2.— iii.— 3. 


Foolery does walk about the orb, like the sun ; it 
shines everywhere. 


Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, not in the 
lineaments of nature. 


Fond fathers 
Having bound up the threat' ning twigs of birch, 
Only to stick it in their children's sight, 
For terror, not to use, in time the rod 
Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd. 


Fierce extremes, 
In their continuance, will not feel themselves. 


Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, 
Than when it bites but lanceth not the sore. 


Fear oppresseth strength. 


Friendly counsel cuts off many foes. 


Forbear to judge ; for, we are sinners all. 



43 



King- Henry VI. 
Piirt 2.— v.— 2. 



Part 3.— iv.— 7. 



King- Richard 
III. 



iv.— 3. 



Kin? Henry 
VIII. 



Hamlet. 
i.— 2. 



Cymbelinc. 
ii. — 3. 



Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds 
Where it should guard. 



Fearless minds climb soonest unto crowns. 



Fearful commenting 
Is leaden servitor to dull delay ; 
Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary. 



Fling away ambition ; 
By that sin fell the angels ; how can man then, 
The image of his Maker, hope to win by 't ? 
Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate 

thee; 
Corruption wins not more than honesty. 
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, 
To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not; 
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, 
Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, 
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. 



Foul deeds will rise, 
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's 
eyes. 



Fools are not mad folks. 



44 



1 


1 

Cymbeline. 


Famine, 


iii. — 6. 


Ere clean it o'erthrow nature makes it valiant. 




Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever 




Of hardiness is mother. 


iv.— 3. 

Othello. 


Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. 




Fruits that blossom first will first be ripe. 


ii. — 3. 

King- Lear. 




Fathers that wear rags do make their children 


ii.-4. 


blind ; 




But fathers that bear bags shall see their children 




kind. 


iii.— 4. 


Filial ingratitude ! 


Is it not as this mouth should tear this hand, 




For lifting food to 't? 


iv.— 1. 


Full oft 't is seen, 


Our means secure us ; and our mere defects 




Prove our commodities. 


iv.— 2. 


Fools do those villains pity, who are punish'd 


Ere they have done their mischief. 


Macbeth. 




False face must hide what the false heart doth 


i.— 7. 


know. 





45 



Timon of Athens 




i.— 2. 

ii. — 2. 

Troilus and Gres- 
sida. 


Faults that are rich, are fair. 


False hearts should never have sound legs. 


Feast- won, fast-lost. 




ii. — 3. 


Fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, 


iii. — 2. 

Pericles. 


Are like to rot untasted. 


Fears make devils cherubim; they never see truly. 


Few words to fair faith. 




i.— 1. 


Few love to hear the sins they love to act. 


i.— 2. 


Flattery is the bellows blows up sin ; 




The thing the which is flatter' d, but a spark, 




To which that spark gives heat and stronger 


ii. — 1. 


glowing. 


Fishes live in the sea as men do a-land; the great 




ones eat up the little ones. 


Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 





iii— 9. 


Fortune knows 




We scorn her most when most she offers blows. 



46 



Friends should associate friends in grief and woe. 



Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime 
Rot and consume themselves in little time. 



Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover ; 
What though the rose have prickles, yet 't is 
pluck' d : 
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, 
Yet love breaks through, and picks them all 
at last. 



Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, 
But gold that 's put to use more gold begets. 



Fellowship in woe doth woe assuage, 
As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage. 



Fleet- wing'd duty with thought's feathers flies. 



Flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet, 
Loose but their show, their substance still lives 
sweet. 



Tifias Andro- 
nicus. 
v.— 3. 



VenBS & Adonis. 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



Sonnets. 
5. 



47 



1 

; Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

iii. — 1. 

Love's labour 's 
Lost. 
ii. — 1. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

ii.— 2. 

Measure for 
Measure. 

i.— 2. 

ii.— 2. 

King John, 
iii.— 1. 

King Richard II. 
i.— 2. 


G. 

Good things should be praised. 


Good wits will be jangling. 


Great floods have flown 
From simple sources ; and great seas have dried, 
When miracles have by the greatest been denied. 


Grace is grace, despite of all controversy. 


Good counsellors lack no clients. 


Great men may jest with saints : 't is wit in them; 
But, in the less, foul profanation. 


Grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop. 


Grief boundeth where it falls, 
Not with the empty hollowness, but weight. 



48 



1 


King- llichard II. 


Grief makes one hour ten. 


i.— 3. 


Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite 


The man that mocks at it, and sets it light. 


King Henry V. 




Government, through high, and low, and lower, 


i.— 2. 


Put into parts, doth keep in one concent ; 




Congreeing in a full and natural close, 




Like music. 


Hi.— 7. 


Give the devil his due. 




King- Henry VI. 


Glory is like a circle in the water, 


Part 1. — i. — 2. 


Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, 




Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. 




Grief softens the mind, 


Part 2.— iv.— 4. 


And makes it fearful and degenerate. 




Great men have reaching hands. 


iv.— 7. 

Part 3. — ii. — 5. 


Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade 


To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, 




i Than doth a rich embroider' d canopy 




: To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery ? 


: 


The shepherd's homely curds, 





49 



King Henry VI. 
Part 3. — ii. — 5. 



Hamlet. 
i.— 3. 



His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, 

His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, 

All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, 

Is far beyond a prince's delicates, 

His viands sparkling in a golden cup, 

His body couched in a curious bed, 

When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him. 



Graces challenge grace : 
And when the lion fawns upon the lamb, 
The lamb will never cease to follow him. 



Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
Nor any unproportion'd thought, his act. 
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel ; 
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware 
Of entrance to a quarrel : but, being in, 
Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee. 
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice : 
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judg- 
ment. 
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 
But not express' d in fancy ; rich, not gaudy : 
For, the apparel oft proclaims the man. 
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be : 
For, loan oft loses both itself and friend ; 
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 



50 





Hamlet. 


! This above all, — To thine ownself be true ; 


i.— 3. 


And it must follow, as the night the day, 




Thou canst not then be false to any man. 


ii. — 2. 


Guilty creatures sitting at a play, 


Have, by the very cunning of the scene, 




Been struck so to the soul, that presently 




They have proclaim' d their malefactions ; 




For, murder, though it have no tongue, will speak 




"With most miraculous organ. 


Cymbeline. 




Great griefs medicine the less. 


iv.— 2. 


Golden lads and girls all must, 




As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. 


Othello. 




Good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be 


ii.— 3. 


well used. 


iii. — 3. 


Good name in man and woman, 


Is the immediate jewel of their souls : 




Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, 




nothing ; 




'T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to 




thousands : 




But he that filches from me my good name, 




Robs me of that which not enriches him, 




And makes me poor indeed. 





51 



Othello, 
v.-l. 



Timon of Athens 
i.— 2. 



Guiltiness will speak, 
Though tongues were out of use. 



iv.— 3. 



Julius Caesar. 
iv.— 3. 



v.— 1. 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



Great men should drink with harness on their 
throats. 



Gold will make 
Black, white ; foul, fair ; wrong, right ; 
Base, noble ; old, young ; coward, valiant : 
"Will lug your priests and servants from your sides; 
Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads : 
This yellow slave 

Will knit and break religions ; bless the accurs'd ; 
Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, 
And give them title, knee, and approbation, 
With senators on the bench. 

Good reasons must, of force, give place to better. 



Good words are better than bad strokes. 



Guilt being great the fear doth still exceed. 



Great grief grieves most at that would do it good. 



52 



H. 

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. 



Hope is a lover's staff. 



How use doth breed a habit in a man ! 



Headstrong liberty is leash'd with woe. 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

L— 1, 



Hi.— 1. 



Comedy of Errors 
ii. — 1. 



How many fond fools serve mad jealousy ! 



He must have a long spoon that must eat with 
the devil. 



Honest plain words best pierce the ears of grief. 



He must needs go that the devil drives. 



iv.— 3. 



Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 



All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 3. 



53 



All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

ii. — 1. 



iv.— 3. 



Taming of the 
Shrew. 



i.— 1. 



v.— 2. 



He that runs fastest gets the ring. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 

i.— 2. 



iv.— 1. 



v.— 1. 



Much Ado 
About Nothing. 

i.— 1. 



He that of greatest works is finisher, 
Oft does them by the weakest minister : 
So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, 
When judges have been babes. 



How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts 
of our losses ! And how mightily, some other 
times, we drown our gain in tears ! 



He that is giddy thinks the world turns round. 



Holy men, at their death, have good inspirations. 



He is well paid that is well satisfied. 



How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 



How many things by season season'd are 
To their right praise and true perfection ! 



How much better is it to weep at joy, than to 
joy at weeping ! 



54 



Happy are they that hear their detractions, and 
can put them to mending. 



Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs. 



He that is well hanged in this world needs to 
fear no colours. 



How easy is it for the proper-false 

In women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! 



How apt the poor are to be proud ! 



How full of briars is this working-day world ! 



He that a fool doth very wisely hit 

Doth very foolishly, although he smart, 

Not to seem senseless of the bob : if not, 

The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd 

Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool. 



He that wants money, means, and content, is 
without three good friends. 



Honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a 
sauce to sugar. 



i 



55 



Much Ado About 

Nothing. 

ii.— 3. 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 



ii. — 1. 



Twelfth Night. 
i.— 5. 



ii.— 2. 



iii. — 1. 



As You Like It. 
i.— 3. 



ii.— 7. 



iii.— 2. 



iii.— 3. 



As You Like It. 
iv.— 1. 



Measure for 
Measure. 
L— 1. 



ii.— 2. 



He that will divide a minute into a thousand 
parts, and break but a part of the thousandth 
part of a minute in the affairs of love, it may 
be said of him that Cupid hath clapp'd him o' 
the shoulder, but I ? 11 warrant him heart-whole. 



How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness 
through another man's eyes ! 



Heaven doth with us as we with torches do ; 
Not light them for themselves : for, if our virtues 
Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike 
As if we had them not. 



Hark, how I "11 bribe you : 
Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, 
Or stones, whose rates are either rich or poor 
As fancy values them ; but with true prayers 
That shall be up at heaven, and enter there, 
Ere sunrise : prayers from preserved souls, 
From fasting maids, whose minds are dedicate 
To nothing temporal. 



He who the sword of Heaven will bear 
Should be as holy as severe ; 
Pattern in himself, to know, 
Grace to stand, and virtue go ; 
More nor less to others paying, 
Than by self-offences weighing. 



50 



Shame to him, whose cruel striking 
Kills for faults of his own liking ! 



How sometimes nature will betray its folly, 
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime 
To harder bosoms ! 



He that dies pays all debts. 



Have is have, however men do catch. 



He is but a bastard to the time, 
That doth not smack of observation. 



He that steeps his safety in true blood, 
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue. 



How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 
Makes ill deeds done ! 



He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes. 



Hope to joy, is little less in joy, 
Than hope enjoy'd. 



He does me double wrong 
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. 



Measure for 
Measure, 
iii. — 2. 



A Winter's Tale. 
i.— 2. 



The Tempest, 
iii.— 2. 

King John. 
i.— 1. 



iii.— 4. 



iv.— 2. 



King Richard II. 
ii.— 1. 



ii. — 3. 



iii.— 2. 



57 



King Richard II. 




v.— 5. 


How sour sweet music is, 




When time is broke, and no proportion kept ! 


King- Henry IV. 
Part 1.— v.— 1. 


So is it in the music of men's lives. 


Honour is a mere scutcheon. 


Part 2. — i. — 1. 


He that but fears the thing he would not know, 




Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' eyes 


iii. — 2. 

iv. — 4. 


That what he fear'd is chanced. 


He that dies this year is quit for the next. 


How quickly nature falls into revolt, 


v.— 5. 

King- Henry V. 
i— 2. 


When gold becomes her object ! 


How ill white hairs become a fool and jester ! 


Heaven doth divide 




The state of man in divers functions, 




Setting endeavour in continual motion ; 




To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, 




Obedience : for, so work the honey-bees ; 




Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach 




The act of order to a peopled kingdom. 




They have a king, and officers of sorts : 




Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ; 




Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; 

l 



58 



King- Henry V. 



Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, 

Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds ; 

Which pillage they with merry march bring home 

to the tent-royal of their emperor : 

Who, busied in his majesties, surveys 

The singing masons building roofs of gold ; 

The civil citizens kneading up the honey ; 

The poor mechanic porters crowding in 

Their heavy burthens at his narrow gate ; 

The sad-ey'd justice, with his surly hum, 

Delivering o'er to executors pale 

The lazy yawning drone. I this infer, — 

That many things, having full reference 

To one concent, may work contrariously ; 

As many arrows, loosed several ways, 

Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one 

town ; 
As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea ; 
As many lines close in the dial's centre ; 
So may a thousand actions, once afoot, 
End in one purpose, and be all well borne 
Without defeat. 



He that is truly dedicate to war 
Hath no self-love ; nor he that loves himself 
Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, 
The name of valour. 



King- Henry VI. 
Part 2.— v.— 2. 



Hercules himself must yield to odds. 



Part 3. — ii. — 1. 



59 



King Henry VI. 
Part 3.— iv.— 1. 



Kins: Henry 
VIII. 



i.— 1. 



ii. — 3. 



Romeo & Juliet, 
i.— 1. 



ii.— 2. 



v.— 1. 



Cymbeline. 
ii.— 3. 



Hasty marriage seldom proveth well. 



Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot 
That it do singe yourself. 



Honour's train 
Is longer than his foreskirt. 



He that is strucken blind, cannot forget 
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost. 



He jests at scars, that never felt a wound. 



How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, 
Like softest music to attending ears ! 



How sweet is love itself possess'd, 
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy ! 



Hark ! hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, 

And Phcebus 'gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 

On chalic'd flowers that lies ; 
And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their gold- 
en eyes ; 
With everything that pretty is — My lady sweet, 
arise : 

Arise, arise. 



60 



How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature ! 


Cvmbeline. 
iU. — 3. 

v.-4. 

Othello, 
i.— 3. 

ii. — 3. 

iii.— 3. 

King- Lear. 
i.— 4. 

ii.— 4. 

iii.— 2. 

Timon of Athens 
L— 1. 


He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache. 


He bears the sentence well that nothing bears 
But the free comfort which from thence he hears : 
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow 
That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. 


How poor are they that have not patience ! 


He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, 
Let him not know % and he ; s not robb'd at all. 


Have more than thou showest, 
Speak less than thou knowest, 
Lend less than thou owest. 


How, in one house, 
Should many people, under two commands, 
Hold amity ? ' T is hard ; almost impossible. 


He that has a house to put his head in, has a 
good head-piece. 


He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the 
flatterer. 

1 



61 



Timon of Athens 
iii — 5. 



Trcilus and Cres- 
sida. 

i.— 1. 



ii. — 3. 



Pericles. 
i— 1. 



Coriolanus. 
iii.— 2. 



He 's truly valiant that can wisely suffer 

The worst that man can breathe ; 

And make his wrongs his outsides, 

To wear them like his raiment, carelessly ; 

And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, 

To bring it into danger. 

If wrongs be evils, and enforce us kill, 

What folly 't is to hazard life for ill ! 



He that will have a cake out of the wheat must 
needs tarry the grinding. 



He that is proud eats up himself : pride is his own 
glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle ; and 
whatever praises itself but in the deed, devours 
the deed in the praise. 



He 's no man on whom perfections wait, 
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate. 



He was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, 
that, being bid to ask what he would of the 
king, desired he might know none of his secrets. 



Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, 
I ' the war do grow together. 



62 



He that hath a will to die by himself, fears it not 
from another. 


Coriolanus. 
v.-2. 

Julius Csesar. 
ii. — 4. 

iii. — 1. 

Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

iii— 11. 

Titus Andro- 
nicus. 

i.— 2. 

The 
Rape of Lucrece. 

The Passionate 
Pilgrim. 


How hard it is for women to keep counsel ! 


How weak a thing 
The heart of woman is ! 


He that cuts off twenty years of life 
Cuts off so many years of fearing death. 


He that can endure 
To follow with allegiance a fallen lord, 
Does conquer him that did his master conquer, 
And earns a place i' the story. 


He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. 


He ten times pines that pines beholding food. 


Have you not heard it said full oft, 
A woman's nay doth stand for nought ? 



63 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

i.— 1. 
v.— 4. 

Comedy of Errors 
iii— 2. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 3. 

iv. — 3. 

A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

v.— 1. 


I. 

Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, 
An if the shepherd be awhile away. 


In love, 
Who respects friend ? 


Inconstancy falls off ere it begins. 


Ill deeds are doubled with an evil word. 


It is the show and seal of nature's truth, 
Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth. 


It will come to pass, 
That every braggart shall be found an ass. 


It is not enough to speak, but to speak true. 



64 



Is the jay more precious than the lark, 
Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 
Or is the adder better than the eel, 
Because his painted skin contents the eye ? 



If to do were as easy as to know what were good 
to do, chapels had been churches, and poor 
men's cottages princes' palaces. 



It is a good divine that follows his own instruc- 
tions : I can easier teach twenty what were 
good to be done, than be one of the twenty to 
follow mine own teaching. 



If Hercules and Lichas play at dice 
Which is the better man, the greater throw 
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand : 
So is Alcides beaten by his page ; 
And so may I, blind fortune leading me, 
Miss that which one unworthier may attain. 



It is a wise father that knows his own child. 



In companions 
That do converse and waste the time together, 
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love, 
There must be needs a like proportion 
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit. 



/Taming- of the 
Shrew. 
iv.— 3. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 

i.— 2. 



ii.-l. 



ii. — 2. 



iii. — 4. 



65 



Much Ado About 
Nothing 1 . 

ii. — 1. 



ii. — 3. 



iv.— 1. 



It is said, " God sends a curst cow short horns;" 
but to a cow too curst he sends none. 



It is the witness still of excellency, 

To put a strange face on his own perfection. 



It so falls out, 
That what we have we prize not to the worth 
Whiles we enjoy it ; but being lack'd and lost, 
Why then we rack the value, then we find 
The virtue that possession would not show us 
Whiles it was ours. 



v.— 1. 



v.— 2. 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

ii.— 2. 



v.— 5. 



In a false quarrel there is no true valour. 



If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb 
ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument 
than the bells ring, and the widow weeps. 



If a man will be beaten with brains, he shall 
wear nothing handsome about him. 



If money go before, all ways do lie open. 



In love, the Heavens themselves do guide the 

state ; 
Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate. 



66 



I Infirmity, that decays the wise, doth ever make 
the better fool. 



Twelfth Night. 
i.— 5. 



! If one should be a prey, how much the better 
! To fall before the lion than the wolf ! 



It comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a 
swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives 
manhood more approbation than ever proof it- 
self would have earned him. 



In nature there 's no blemish but the mind ; 
None can be call'd deform' d, but the unkind : 
Virtue is beauty ; * but the beauteous evil 
Are empty trunks, o'erflourished by the devil. 



If thou remember'st not the slightest folly 
That ever love did make thee run into, 
Thou hast not lov'd : 

* Burton, in his own quaint and inimitable style, thus admirably 
enforces this truth : No beauty leaves such an impression, strikes 
so deep, or links the souls of men closer than vertue. No painter, 
no graver, no carver can express vertues lustre, or those admirable 
rayes that come from it, those enchanting- raves that enamour pos- 
terity, those everlasting rayes that continue to the worlds end. 
Many, saith Phavorinus, that loved and admired Alcibiades in his 
youth, knew not, cared not for Alcibiades as a man ; nunc intuentes 
qucerebant Alcibiadem : but the beauty of Socrates is still the same : 
vertues lustre never fades, is ever fresh and green, semper viva to all 
succeeding ages, and a most attractive loadstone, to draw and com- 
bine such as are present. 

Anatomy of Melancholy. 



67 



iii. — 1. 



As You Like It. 
ii.-4. 



As You Like It. 




ii. — 4. 


Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, 




Wearing thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, 




Thou hast not lov'd : 




Or if thou hast not broke from company 




Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, 


! 

ii.— 7. 


Thou hast not lov'd. 


If ladies be but young, and fair, 


! 

iii. — 2. 


They have the gift to know it. 


It is as easy to count atomies, as to resolve the 


iv.—l. 


propositions of a lover. 


I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than 


Epilogue. 


experience to make me sad. 


If it be true that " good wine needs no bush," 




't is true, that a good play needs no epilogue : 




Yet to good wine they do use good bushes ; and 




good plays prove the better for the help of 




good epilogues. 


Measure for 




M easure. 




ii.-^. 


Ignomy in ransom, and free pardon, 




Are of two houses : lawful mercy 




Is nothing kin to foul redemption. 


It oft falls out, 




To have what we would have, we speak not what 




we mean. 



68 



It is an heretic that makes the fire, 
Not she which burns in ? t. 



I ne'er heard yet, 
That any of these bolder vices wanted 
Less impudence to gainsay what they did, 
Than to perform it first. 



Impatience hath his privilege. 



If angels fight, 
Weak men must fall ; for, heaven still guards 
the right. 



If all the year were playing holidays, 

To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 

But when they seldom come they wish' d- for come, 

And nothing please th but rare accidents. 



A Winter's Tale, 
ii.— 3. 



iii. — 2. 



King- John, 
iv.— 3. 



King Richard IT. 
iii.— 2. 



King Henry IV. 
Part 1. — i. — 2. 



In poison there is physic. 



It was always yet the trick of our English nation, 
if they have a good thing, to make it too com- 
mon. 



In everything, the purpose must weigh with the 
folly. 



Part 2.— L— 1. 



i.— 2. 



ii.— 2. 



69 



King Henry IV. 


' 


Part 2.— v.— 1. 


It is certain that either wise bearing, or ignorant 




carriage, is caught as men take diseases, one 




of another; therefore, let men take heed of 


King Henry V. 


their company. 




ii.— 4. 


In cases of defence, ? t is best to weigh 




The enemy more mighty, than he seems : 




So the proportions of defence are fill'd ; 




"Which, of a weak and niggardly projection, 




Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting 


iii. — 1. 


A little cloth. 


In peace, there ? s nothing so becomes a man 


iii.— 7. 
King Henry YI. 


As modest stillness, and humility. 


Ill will never said well. 




Part 2.— iv.— 7. 


Ignorance is the curse of God, 




Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven. 


v.— 1. 


It is great sin, to swear unto a sin ; 




But greater sin, to keep a sinful oath. 




Who can be bound by any solemn vow 




To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, 




To force a spotless virgin's chastity, 




To reave the orphan of his patrimony, 




To wring the widow from her custom'd right ; 




And have no other reason for this wrong 




But that he was bound by a solemn oath ? 



70 



Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. 



Impatience waiteth on true sorrow. 



In common worldly things 't is called ungrateful, 
With dull unwillingness to repay a debt, 
Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent. 



Idle words are fast in growth. 



In the corrupted currents of this world, 
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice ; 
And oft 't is seen, the wicked prize itself 
Buys out the law : But 't is not so above : 
There is no shuffling ; there the action lies 
In his true nature ; and we ourselves compell'd, 
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, 
To give in evidence. 



In the fatness of these pursy times, 
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg ; 
Yea, curb and woo, for leave to do him good. 



Imperial Csesar, dead, and turn'd to clay, 
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away : 
O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, 
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! 



King- Henry VI. 
Part 3. — ii. — 5. 



iii. — 3. 

King- Richard 

III. 

ii.— 2. 



iii.— 1. 



Hamlet, 
iii.— 3. 



v.— 1. 



71 



Cymbeline. 



Othello. 



King Lear, 
i.— 4. 



ii.— 4. 



Macbeth, 
v.— 1. 



Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

i.— 3. 



I would we were all of one mind, and one mind 
good ; O, there were desolation of gaolers and 
gallowses ! 



I do think, it is their husbands' faults 
If wives do fall. 



Ingratitude ! thou marble-hearted fiend, 

More hideous, when thou show'st thee in a child, 

Than the sea-monster ! 



Infirmity doth still neglect all office, 
Whereto our health is bound ; we are not our- 
selves, 
When nature being oppress'd, commands the mind 
To suffer with the body. 



Infected minds 
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. 



In the wind and tempest of her frown, 
Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, 
Puffing at all, winnows the light away ; 
And what hath mass, or matter, by itself 
Lies, rich in virtue, and unmingled. 



In the reproof of chance 
Lies the true proof of men : the sea being smooth, 



72 



How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 

Upon her patient breast, making their way 

With those of nobler bulk ! 

But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage 

The gentle Thetis, and, anon, behold 

The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains 

cut, 
Bounding between the two moist elements, 
Like Perseus' horse : Where 's then the saucy 

boat, 
Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now 
Co-rivall'd greatness ? either to harbour fled, 
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so 
Doth valour's show, and valour's worth, divide, 
In storms of fortune : For, in her ray and bright- 
ness, 
The herd hath more annoyance by the brize * 
Than by the tiger ; but when the splitting wind 
Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, 
And flies fled under shade, why, then, the thing 

of courage, 
As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, 
And, with an accent tun'd in self- same key, 
Returns to chiding fortune. 



Troilus and 
Cressida. 

i.— 3. 



It is the purpose that makes strong the vow : 
But vows to every purpose must not hold. 



I '11 take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath ; 
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both. 

* The gad-fly. 



v.— 3. 



Pericles. 
i.— 2. 



73 



Pericles. 



I held it ever, 
Virtue and cunning * were endowments greater 
Than nobleness and riches : careless heirs 
May the two latter darken and expend ; 
But immortality attends the former, 
Making a man a god. 



Julius Csesar. 

ii.—i. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder ; 

And that craves wary walking. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

i.-3. 



In time we hate that which we often fear. 



Sonnets. 
93. 



In many's looks the false heart's history 

Is writ, in moods and frowns and wrinkles strange. 



* Cunning — knowledge. 



74 



J. 



Joy absent, grief is present for that time. 



Jealousy ; 
It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock 
The meat it feeds on. 



Jesters do oft prove prophets. 



King Richard II. 
i.— 3. 



Othello, 
iii.— 3. 



King Lear, 
v.— 3. 



75 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor, 

iii. — 1. 



As You Like It. 
iv.— 3. 



King Henry VI. 
Part i— iii.— 2. 



Othello. 
ii. — 1. 



Pericles. 
i— 1. 



K. 

Keep a gamester from the dice, and a good stu- 
dent from his book, and it is wonderful. 



Kindness, nobler ever than revenge. 



Kings and mightiest potentates must die ; 
For, that 's the end of human misery. 



Knavery's plain face is never seen till us'd. 



Kings are earth's gods : in vice their law 's their 

will ; 
And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill ? 



76 



L. 

Love hath twenty pair of eyes. 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

ii — 4. 

iii. — 1. 

v.— 1. 

v.— 2. 


Love 's a mighty lord : 
There is no woe to his correction,*' 
Nor to his service, no such joy on earth ! 


Love delights in praises. 


Love is full of jealousy. 


Love is like a child, 
That longs for everything that he can come by. 


Lovers break not hours, 
Unless it be to come before their time ; 
So much they spur their expedition. 


Love will not be spurred to what it loathes. 

* Compared to his correction. 



Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 
iv.-3. 



All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 1. 



iv.— 2. 



v.— 3. 



Love's feeling is more soft, and sensible, 
Than are the tender horns of cockled snails : 
Love's tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in 

taste : 
For valour, is not Love a Hercules, 
Still climbing trees in the Hesperides ? 
Subtle as sphynx ; as sweet, and musical, 
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ; 
And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods 
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. 



Love all, trust a few, 
Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy 
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend 
Under thy own life's key : be check'd for silence, 
But never tax'd for speech. 



Love is holy. 



Love that comes too late, 
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, 
To the great sender turns a sour offence, 
Crying, That 's good that 's gone : our rash faults 
Make trivial price of serious things we have, 
Not knowing them, until we know their grave : 
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, 
Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust : 
Our own love waking cries to see what 's done, 
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. 



Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind ; 
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. 



Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, 
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend 
More than cool reason ever comprehends. 



Lovers ever run before the clock. 



Love is blind, and lovers cannot see 
The pretty follies that themselves commit. 



Let none presume 
To wear an undeserved dignity. 



Look how the floor of heaven 
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold. 
There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold' st 
But in his motion like an angel sings, 
Still quiring to the young- eyed cherubim : 
Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. 



A Midsummer 

Night's Dream. 

L— 1. 



v.-l. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 



ii. — 6. 



v.-l. 



Loving goes by haps, 
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. 



Life is a shuttle. 



Much Ado About 
Nothing-. 

iii. — 1. 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 



v.— 1. 



79 



Twelfth Night. 



iii. — 1. 



As You Like It. 
ii.— 1. 



iii.— 2. 



Measure for 
Measure. 

ii.— 1. 



Let still the woman take 
An elder than herself ; so wears she to him, 
So sways she level in her husband's heart. 
For, however we do praise ourselves, 
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, 
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, 
Than women's are. 



Let thy love be younger than thyself, 
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent : 
For, women are as roses ; whose fair flower, 
Being once display' d, doth fall that very hour. 



Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. 



Life, exempt from public haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running 

brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything. 



Love is merely a madness ; and deserves as well 
a dark house and a whip as madmen do ; and 
the reason why they are not so punished and 
cured is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that 
the whippers are in love too. 



Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, 
Than fall, and bruise to death. 



80 





Measure for 




Measure. 


Let 's write good angel on the devil's horn, 


ii.— 4. 


: J T is not the devil's crest. 


iv.— 2. 

The Tempest. 


Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd.* 




Like the baseless fabric of this vision, 


iv.— 1. 


\ The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 




The solemn temples, the great globe itself, 




Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve ; 




: And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, 




J Leave not a rack behind. 


v.— 1. 


; Let us not burden our remembrances with 


A heaviness that 's gone. 


King Richard II. 




Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, 


ii.— 1. 


Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. 




Love they to live, that love and honour have. 




King Henry 
VIII. 




Love and meekness 


v.— 2. 


Become a churchman better than ambition. 


Romeo & Juliet. 


i 


Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs ; 


i.— 1. 


Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes ; 




Being vex'd, a sea nourished with loving tears : 




* Eight words, says Mr. Knight, of the highest poetry. 





81 



Koineo & Juliet, 
i.— 1. 



ii.— 5. 



ii. — 6. 



Hamlet. 
ii.— 1. 



v.— 2. 



What is it else ? a madness most discreet, 
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. 



Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their 
books ; 

But love from love, toward school with heavy- 
looks. 



Love's heralds should be thoughts, 
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, 
Driving back shadows over lowring hills : 
Therefore do nimble-pinion' d doves draw love, 
And therefore hath the wind- swift Cupid wings. 



Love moderately ; long love doth so. 



Love, 
Whose violent property foredoes itself, 
And leads the will to desperate undertakings, 
As oft as any passion under heaven, 
That does afflict our natures. 



Let Hercules himself do what he may, 

The cat will mew, and dog will have his day. 



Let us know, 
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, 



82 



When our dear plots do pall ; and that should 

teach us, 
There 's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
Rough-hew them how we will. 



Love's reason 's without reason. 



Let 's teach ourselves that honourable stop, 
Not to out-sport discretion. 



Let our finger ache, and it indues 
Our other healthful members ev'n to a sense 
Of pain. 



Love 's not love, 
When it is mingled with regards that stand 
Aloof from the entire point. 



Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down 
a hill, lest it break thy neck with following ; 
but the great one that goes upward, let him 
draw thee after. 



Light boats may sail swift, though greater bulks 
draw deep. 



Life every man holds dear ; but the dear man 
Holds honour far more precious dear than life. 



H amlet. 
v.— 2. 



Cymbeline. 
iv.— 2. 

Othello. 
11.— 3. 



iii. — 4. 



King Lear, 
i.— 1. 



ii. — 4. 



Troilus and Cres- 
sitla. 

11.— 3. 



v.— 3. 



83 



Julius Caesar, 
ii— 1. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

iii.— 6. 



Titus Andro- 
nicus. 
iii— 1. 



Venus & Adonis. 



Lowliness is young ambition's ladder, 
Whereto the climber-upward turns his face : 
But when he once attains the utmost round, 
He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend. 



Let determin'd things to destiny 
Hold unbewail'd their way. 



Losers will have leave 
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. 



Love is a spirit all compact of fire, 

Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire. 



Lovers say the heart hath treble wrong, 
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue. 



Looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth. 



Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, 
But lust's effect is tempest after sun ; 
Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, 
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done. 
Love surfeits not ; lust like a glutton dies : 
Love is all truth ; lust full of forged lies. 



84 



Love makes young men thrall, and old men dote. 



Love is wise in folly, foolish-witty. 



Lovers' hours are long, though seeming short. 



Love thrives not in the heart that shadows 
dreadeth. 



Love knows, it is a greater grief 
To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury. 



Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, 

So do our minutes hasten to their end; 

Each changing place with that which goes before, 

In sequent toil all forwards do contend. 

Nativity, once in the main of light, 

Crawls to maturity, wherewith being crown' d, 

Crooked eclipses 'gainst his glory fight, 

And Time, that gave, doth now his gift confound. 

Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth, 

And delves the parallels in beauty's brow ; 

Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, 

And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow. 



Love is not love 
Which alters when it alteration finds, 
Or bends with the remover to remove : 



85 



Venus & Adonis, 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



Sonnets. 
40. 



60. 



116. 



Sonnets. 
116. 



O no ; it is an ever-fixed mark, 

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ; 

It is the star to every wandering bark, 

Whose worth 's unknown, although his height 

be taken. 
Love 's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and 

cheeks 
Within his bending sickle's compass come ; 
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 
But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 



138. 



Love's best habit is in seeming trust. 



151. 



Love is too young to know what conscience is ; 
Yet who knows not, conscience is born of love ? 



86 



M. 

Maids, in modesty, say " No " to that 
Which they would have the profFerer construe 

"Ay." 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

i.— 2. 

iii. — 2. 

Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

iv.— 2. 

v.— 2. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 1. 

ii.— 4. 

Taming- of the 
Shrew. 

Induction. — 2, 


Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. 


Many can brook the weather, that love not the 
wind. 


Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. 


Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead ; 
excessive grief the enemy to the living. 


Many a man's tongue shakes out his master's 
undoing. 


Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy. 



87 



Taming- of the 
Shrew, 
v.— 1. 


My cake is dough.* 


Merchant of 
Venice, 
ii. — 7. 


Men that hazard all 




Do it in hope of fair advantages. 


Much Ado About 
iSothing-. 






v.— 1. 


Men 




Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief 




Which they themselves not feel ; but tasting it 




Their counsel turns to passion, which before 




"Would give preceptial medicine to rage, 




Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, 




Charm ach with air, and agony with words. 


Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 




ii.— 2. 
Twelfth Night 


Money is a good soldier, and will on. 




i. — 5. 
As You Like It. 


Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage. 




ii.— 1. 


Misery doth part 


iv.— 1. 


The flux of company. 


Men are April when they woo, December when 




they wed : maids are May when they are maids, 




but the sky changes when they are wives. 


Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will 




* A proverbial expression of disappointment. 



88 



out at the casement ; shut that, and 't will out 
at the keyhole ; stop that, 't will fly with the 
smoke out at the chimney. 



Mercy is not itself, that oft looks so ; 
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe. 



As You Like It. 
iv.— I. 



Measure for 

Measure. 



Merciful Heaven ! 

Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, 

Splitt'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, 

Than the soft myrtle : But man, proud man ! 

Dress' d in a little brief authority ; 

Most ignorant of what he ?s most assur'd, 

His glassy essence, — like an angry ape, 

Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, 

As make the angels weep. 

Most dangerous 
Is that temptation, that doth goad us on 
To sin in loving virtue. 



Misery acquaints a man w r ith strange bedfellows. 



Misery makes sport to mock itself. 



Men living flatter those that die. 



Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds. 



ii.— 1. 



ii. — 2. 



The Tempest. 
ii.-2. 

King Richard II. 
ii.— 1. 



Kiug Henry IV. 
Part 2.— iv.— 4. 



89 



King Henry VI. 
Part I.— v.— 5. 

Part 3.— ii.— 1. 
iii. — 2. 

King- Richard 

III. 

iv. — 4. 

King Henry 
VIII. ' 

iv.— 2. 
v.— 2. 

Romeo & Juliet, 
iii.— 1. 

Hamlet, 
ii.— 2. 


Marriage is a matter of more worth, 
Than to be dealt in by attorneyship. 


Many strokes, though with a little axe, 
Hew down and fell the hardest- timber' d oak. 


Much rain wears the marble. 


Many men that stumble at the threshold 
Are well foretold that danger lurks within. 


Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, 
Which after -hours give leisure to repent. 


Men's evil manners live in brass ; their virtues 
We write in water. 


Men, that make 
Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment, 
Dare bite the best. 


Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. 


Many, wearing rapiers, are afraid of goose quills. 



90 





Cymbeline. 


Most miserable 


i.— 7. 


Is the desire that 's glorious : Blessed be those, 




How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills, 




Which seasons comfort. 


iii. — 4. 
v.— 4. 


Men's vows are women's traitors. 


Many dream not to find, neither deserve, 


And yet are steep' d in favours. 


Othello. 




Men do their broken weapons rather use, 


i.— 3. 


Than their bare hands. 


ii.— 3. 
iii.— 3. 


Men in rage strike those that wish them best. 


Men should be what they seem; 


Or, those that be not 'would they might seem 




none ! 


iii. — 4. 


Men * are not gods ; 


Nor of them look for such observancy 




As fits the bridal. 


King- Lear. 
v.-2. 


Men must endure 


Their going hence, even as their coming hither : 




Ripeness is all. 




* The word men is here used for husbands. 





91 



King- Lear. 




v.— 3. 


Men 




Are as the time is : to be tender-minded 


Timon of Athens 
i.— 2. 

iii. — 4. 


Does not become a sword. 


Men shut their doors against a setting sun. 


Many do keep their chambers are not sick. 


Troilus and 

Cressida. 

iii.— 3. 


Man, how dearly ever parted, 




How much in having, or without, or in, 




Cannot make boast to have that which he hath, 




Nor feels not what he owes* but by reflection; 




As when his virtues shining upon others 




Heat them, and they retort that heat again 


Pericles. 


To the first giver. 




ii. — 3. 

Coriolanus. 


Mirth becomes a feast. 


Men take women's gifts for impudence. 




iii.— 1. 


Manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands 


Julius Csesar. 
i.— 2. 


Against a falling fabric. 


Men at some time are masters of their fates : 




The fault is not in our stars, 




But in ourselves, that we are underlings. 




* Owes — owns, possesses. 



92 





Julius Caesar. 


Men may construe things, after their fashion, 


i.— 3. - 


Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. 






Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 




Men's judgments are 


iii. — 11. 


A parcel of their fortunes ; and things outward 




Do draw the inward quality after them, 




To suffer all alike. 






Titus Andro- 
nicus. 




More water glide th by the mill 


ii.— 1. 


Than wots the miller of. 


Venus & Adonis. 

The 
.Rape of Lucrece. 


Misery is trodden on by many. 


Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear ; 


Their own transgressions partially they smother. 


Men have marble, women waxen minds, 


And therefore are they form'd as marble will ; 




The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange 




kinds 




Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or skill : 




Then call them not the authors of their ill, 




No more than wax shall be accounted evil, 




Wherein is stamp' d the semblance of a devil. 





93 



Comedy of Errors 
iv.— 2. 

Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

iv.— 3. 

v.— 2. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

iii. — 5. 

A Midsummer 

Night's Dream. 

v.— 1. 


N. 

No evil lost is wail'd when it is gone. 


None offend where all alike do dote. 


Never durst poet touch a pen to write, 
Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs. 
0, then his lines would ravish savage ears, 
And plant in tyrants mild humility. 


None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, 
As wit turn'd fool : folly, in wisdom hatch' d, 
Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school : 
And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. 


No legacy is so rich as honesty. 


Never anything can be amiss, 
When simpleness and duty tender it. 



94 



No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en. 


Taming of the 
Shrew. 

i.— 1. 

Merchant of 
Venice. 

i— 1. 

Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

i.— 4. 

Twelfth Night. 
ii.-3. 

iii.- — 4. 

Measure for 
Measure. 

ii.— 2. 
iii.— 2. 


Now, by two-headed Janus, 
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : 
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, 
And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper : 
And other of such vinegar aspect, 
That they '11 not show their teeth in way of smile, 
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 


Nobody but has his fault. 


Not to be a-bed after midnight, is to be up be- 
times. 


Nightingales answer daws. 


1 No ceremony that to great ones longs, 
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, 
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, 
Become them with one half so good a grace 
As mercy does. 


No might, nor greatness in mortality 

Can censure 'scape ; back- wounding calumny 

The whitest virtue strikes. 



95 



King John. 




L— 1. 

King- Henry V. 


Near or far off, well won is still well shot. 


New-made honour doth forget men's names. 




v.— 2. 

King Henry 
VIII. 


Nice customs curt'sy to great kings. 




i.— 3. 


New customs, 




Though they be never so ridiculous, 


v.— 1. 


Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow' d. 


Not ever 




The justice and the truth o' the question carries 


Hamlet. 


The due o' the verdict with it. 




i.— 3. 


Nature, crescent, does not grow alone 




In thews, and bulk ; but, as this temple waxes, 




The inward service of the mind and soul 


iv.— 5. 


Grows wide withal. 


Nature is fine in love : and, where 't is fine, 




It sends some precious instance of itself 


iv.— 7. 


After the thing it loves. 


No place should murder sanctuarize. 


Nature her custom holds, 




Let shame say what it will. 



96 





Cymbeline. 


Notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse 


iv.— 2. 


Than priests and fanes that lie. 


King Lear, 
i.— 1. 


Nor are those empty-hearted, whose low sounds 


Reverb no hollowness. 


ii. — 2. 


Nothing almost sees miracles, 


But misery. 


Macbeth, 
i.— 3. 


New honours, 


Like our strange garments, cleave not to their 




mould, 




But with the aid of use. 




Nought 's had, all 's spent, 


iii. — 2. 


Where our desire is got without content : 




'T is safer to be that which we destroy, 




Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy. 


Timon of Athens 
ii.— 2. 


Nature, as it grows again toward earth, 


Is fashion' d for the journey, dull, and heavy. 




Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. 


iii. — 5. 

Troilus and Cres- 
sida. 




Nature craves 


ii.— 2. 


All dues be. render' d to their owners. 

j 





97 



Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

iii. — 3. 


Nature, what things there are, 




Most abject in regard, and dear in use ! 




What things again most dear in the esteem, 


Pericles. 


And poor in worth ! 




iv. — 4. 


No vizor does become black villainy, 


Coriolanus. 


So well as soft and tender flattery. 




ii. — 1. 

Julius Caesar, 
i.— 3. 


Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. 


Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, 




Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, 




Can be retentive to the strength of spirit : 




But life, being weary of these worldly bars, 


iv.-3. 


Never lacks power to dismiss itself. 


Nature must obey necessity. 


Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 






iv.—l. 


Never anger 


v.— 2. 


Made good guard for itself. 


Nature wants stuff 


The Rape of 
Lucrece. 


To vie strange forms with fancy. 


Nothing can Affection's course control, 




Or stop the headlong fury of his speed. 



98 



No perfection is so absolute 
That some impurity doth not pollute. 



No man inveigh against the wither' d flower, 
But chide rough winter that the flower hath kill'd ! 
Not that devour' d, but that which doth devour 
Is worthy blame. 



The Rape of 
Lucrece. 



Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend, 
And being frank, she lends to those are free. 



Nimble thought can jump both sea and land, 
As soon as think the place where he would be. 



Sonnets. 
4. 



44. 



99 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

iii. — 2. 

Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

iv.— 2. 

iv.— 3. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 1. 
ii.— 1. 


0. 

Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews ; 
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, 
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans 
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. 


0, thou monster Ignorance, how deformed dost 
thou look ! 


One drunkard loves another of the name. 


Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, 
Which we ascribe to Heaven ; the fated sky 
Gives us free scope ; only, doth backward pull 
Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. 


Oft expectation fails, and most oft there 
Where most it promises : and oft it hits, 
Where hope is coldest, and despair most shifts. 



100 



On our quick' st decrees 


All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

v.— 3. 


The inaudible and noiseless foot of time 




Steals, ere we can effect them. 


Taming of the 
Shrew. 




Our cake 's dough on both sides. 


i— 1. 




Merchant of 




Venice. 


0, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly 


ii.— 6. 


To seal love's bonds new made, than they are 




wont 




To keep obliged faith unforfeited ! 




0, that estates, degrees, and offices, 


ii. — 9. 


Were not deriv'd corruptly ! and that clear honour 




Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer ! 




How many then should cover that stand bare ! 




How many be commanded that command ! 




How much low peasantry would then be glean' d 




From the true seed of honour ! and how much 




honour 




Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times, 




To be new varnish' d ! 






Much Ado About 
Nothing-. 


One doth not know 


iii. — 1. 


How much an ill word may empoison liking. 




0, what authority and show of truth, 


iv,—l. 


Can cunning sin cover itself withal ! 





101 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

iii. — 4. 



Twelfth Night. 
i.— 1. 



i.— 5. 



iv.— 2. 



As You Like It. 
ii. — 3. 



Measure for 
Measure. 



O, what a world of vile ill-favour' d faults 
Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a-year! 



O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou ! 
That, notwithstanding thy capacity 
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, 
Of what validity and pitch soe'er, 
But falls into abatement and low price, 
Even in a minute ! so full of shapes is fancy, 
That it alone is high-fantastical. 



Ourselves we do not owe ; * 
What is decreed must be. 



One that would rather go with Sir Priest than 
Sir Knight. 



One of those gentle ones that will use the devil 
himself with courtesy. 



O, what a world is this, when what is comely 
Envenoms him that bears it ! 



Omittance is no quittance. 



Our doubts are traitors, 

* Owe — own. 
102 



And make us lose the good we oft might win, 


Measure for 

Measure. 

i.— 5. 


By fearing to attempt. 


ii.— 2. 


0, it is excellent 


To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous 




To use it like a giant. 


ii.-4. 


place ! form ! 


How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, 




Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls 




To thy false seeming ! 




Our compel? d sins 


Stand more for number than for accompt. 


iii. — 2. 


0, what may man within him hide, 


Though angel on the outward side ! 


iv.— 1. 


place and greatness, millions of false eyes 


Are stuck upon thee ! volumes of report 




Run with these false and most contrarious quests 




Upon thy doings ! thousand escapes of wit 




Make thee the father of their idle dream, 




And rack thee in their fancies ! 


A Winter's Tale, 
i.— 2. 


One good deed dying tongueless 


Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that. 





103 



King- Henry IV. 
Part 2.— iii.— 1 . 



O sleep, O gentle sleep, 
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, 
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, 
And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? 
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, 
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, 
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slum- 
ber, 
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, 
Under the canopies of costly state, 
And luird with sounds of sweetest melody? 
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile, 
In loathsome beds ; and leav'st the kingly couch, 
A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell? 
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast 
Seal up the ship -boy's eyes, and rock his brains 
In cradle of the rude imperious surge, 
And in the visitation of the winds, 
Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them 
With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds, 
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? 
Canst thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose 
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; 
And in the calmest and most stillest night, 
With all appliances and means to boot, 
Deny it to a king ? Then happy low-lie-down ! 
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. 



v.— 1. 



0, it is much that a lie with a slight oath, and a 



104 





I 

King Henry IV. ! 


jest with a sad brow, will do with a fellow that 


Part 2.— v.— 1. 


never had the ache in his shoulders ; 0, you 




shall see him laugh, till his face be like a wet 




cloak ill laid up. 


King Henry VI. 




Of all base passions, fear is most accurs'd. 


Part I.— v.— 2. 

King Henry 
VIII. 




Our content 


ii. — 3. 


Is our best having. 




Orpheus with his lute made trees, 


iii. — 1. 


And the mountain-tops that freeze, 




Bow themselves, when he did sing : 




To his music, plants and flowers 




Ever sprung ; as sun and showers 




There had made a lasting spring. 




Everything that heard him play, 




Even the billows of the sea, 




Hung their heads, and then lay by. 




In sweet music is such art : 




Killing care and grief of heart, 




Fall asleep, or, hearing, die. 




0, how wretched 


iii. — 2. 


Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! 




There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, 




That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, 





105 



King- Henry 
VIII. 

iii.— 2. 



Romeo & Juliet. 
i— 2. 



i.— 4, 



More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; 
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, 
Never to hope again. 



One fire burns out another's burning ; 
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; 
One desperate grief cures with another's languish. 



O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. 
She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes 
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone 
On the fore -finger of an alderman, 
Drawn with a team of little atomies 
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : 
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs, 
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; 
Her traces, of the smallest spider's web ; 
Her collars, of the moonshine's watery beams ; 
Her whip, of cricket's bone ; the lash, of film : 
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, 
Not half so big as a round little worm 
Prick' d from the lazy finger of a maid : 
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, 
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, 
Time out o' mind the fairies' coach-makers. 
And in this state she gallops night by night 
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love : 
On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies 

straight : 
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees : 



106 



O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream ; 
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, 
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. 
Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, 
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit : 
And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, 
Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep, 
Then dreams he of another benefice : 
Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, 
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, 
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, 
Of healths five fathom deep ; and then anon 
Drums in his ear ; at which he starts, and wakes ; 
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, 
And sleeps again. 



Borneo & Juliet, 
i.— 4. 



O, mischief ! thou art swift 
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men ! 



Oft it chances in particular men, 
That for some vicious mole of nature in them, 
As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty, 
Since nature cannot choose his origin,) 
By their o'ergrowth of some complexion, 
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason ; 
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens 
The form of plausive manners ; that these men, 
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect ; 
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star, 
Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace, 
As infinite as man may undergo,) 



107 



v.-l. 



Hamlet, 
i.— 4. 



Hamlet, 
i.— 4. 


Shall, in the general censure, take corruption 
From that particular fault : The dram of ill 




Doth all the noble substance often dout, 


i.— 5. 
iii. — 2. 


To his own scandal. 


One may smile, and smile, and be a villain. 


Our wills and fates do so contrary run, 




That our devices still are overthrown ; 


Cymbeline. 
iii.— 3. 


Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. 


Often, to our comfort, shall we find 




The sharded beetle in a safer hold 


iv.— 2. 


Than is the full -wing' d eagle. 


Our courtiers say all 's savage, but at court : 




Experience, 0, thou disprov'st report ! 

The imperious seas breed monsters ; for the dish, 




Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish. 


Othello. 


Our very eyes 
Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. 




i.— 3. 


Our bodies are our gardens ; to the which our 




wills are gardeners : so that if we will plant 




nettles, or sow lettuce ; set hyssop, and weed 




up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, 



108 



or distract it with many ; either to have it ste- 
ril with idleness, or manured with industry; 
why, the power and corrigible authority of this 
lies in our wills. If the balance of our lives 
had not one scale of reason to poise another of 
sensuality, the blood and baseness of our na- 
tures would conduct us to most preposterous 
conclusions : But we have reason to cool our 
raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted 
lusts. 



O that men should put an enemy in their mouths 
to steal away their brains ! that we should, 
with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, trans- 
form ourselves into beasts ! 



Our basest beggars 
Are in the poorest thing superfluous : 
Allow not nature more than nature needs, 
Man's life is cheap as beast's : thou art a lady ; 
If only to go warm were gorgeous, 
Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous 

wear'st, 
Which scarcely keeps thee warm. 



Our foster-nurse of nature is repose. 



Oftentimes, to win us to our harm, 
The instruments of darkness tell us truths ; 



Othello. 
i.— 3. 



ii. — 3. 



King Lear. 



Macbeth. 
i.— 3. 



109 



Macbeth, 
i.— 3. 



Timon of Athens 
i.— 1. 



Troilus and Cres- 

sida. 

iii. — 2. 



Hi. — 3. 



Win us with honest trifles, to betray us 
In deepest consequence. 



Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes 
From whence 't is nourished : The fire i' the flint 
Shows not till it be struck ; our gentle flame 
Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies 
Each bound it chafes. 



Our own precedent passions do instruct us 
What levity 's in youth. 



O, that men's ears should be 

To counsel deaf, but not to flattery ! 



O virtuous fight, 
When right with right wars who shall be most 
right ! 



O heavens, what some men do, 
While some men leave to do ! 
How some men creep in skittish fortune's hall, 
While others play the idiots in her eyes ! 
How one man eats into another's pride, 
While pride is feasting in his wantonness ! 



Omission to do what is necessary 

Seals a commission to a blank of danger : 



110 



And danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
Even then when we sit idly in the sun. 


Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

iii. — 3. 

v.— 8. 

Pericles. 
L— 1. 


One bear will not bite another. 


One sin, I know, another doth provoke ; 


Murder 's as near to lust, as flame to smoke. 




Poison and treason are the hands of sin, 




Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame. 


i.— 4. 


One sorrow never comes but brings an heir, 


That may succeed as his inheritor. 


ii. — 2. 


Opinion 's but a fool, that makes us scan 


The outward habit by the inward man. 


Coriolanus. 
iv. — 4. 


0, world, thy slippery turns ! Friends now fast 


sworn, 




"Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, 




Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exer- 




cise, 




Are still together, who, twin, as 't were, in love 




Unseparable, shall within this hour, 
On a dissention of a doit, break out 




To bitterest enmity : So, fellest foes, 




Whose passions and whose plots have broke their 

sleep 
To take the one the other, by some chance, 





Ill 



Coriolanus. 




iv.— 4. 


Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear 




friends, 


iv.— 7. 


And interjoin their issues. 


Our virtues 




Lie in the interpretation of the time : 




And power, unto itself most commendable, 




Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair 




To extol what it hath done. 




One fire drives out one fire ; one nail, one nail ; 




Rights by rights fouler, strength by strength do 


Julius Caesar. 


fail. 




ii.—l. 


Conspiracy ! 




Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by 




night, 




"When evils are most free ? 0, then, by day 




Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough 




To mask thy monstrous visage ? Seek none, 




Conspiracy ; 




Hide it in smiles and affability : 




For, if thou path,* thy native semblance on, 




Not Erebus itself were dim enough 




To hide thee from prevention. 


iv.— 3. 


Of your philosophy you make no use, 




If you give place to accidental evils. 




* Path— go forward. 



112 



O hateful error, melancholy's child ! 

Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men 

The things that are not ? O error, soon conceiv'd, 

Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, 

But kill'st the mother that engender" d thee. 



O, then we bring forth weeds 
When our quick winds lie still ; and our ills told 

us, 
Is as our earing.* 



O how are they wrapp'd in with infamies, 

That from their own misdeeds askaunce their eyes ! 



O how much more doth beauty beauteous seem, 
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give ! 
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 
For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
The canker-blooms have full as deep a dye 

* Warburton, M alone, Mason, and others read minds instead of 
winds. There appears to be neither warrant nor necessity for the 
change. The passage as it stands in the text may be thus amplified : 
As, in the absence of quick or vivifying winds, the soil brings 
forth weeds — so, the mind in the absence of some quickening power 
or element, is alike noxiously productive. The knowledge of our 
faults puts the mind into action, as the plough breaks up and pre- 
pares the sluggish soil. 

A similar idea is expressed in the play of " King Henry V.' 5 

" When the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt, 
The organs, though defunct and dead before, 
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move 
With casted slough, and fresh legerity." 



Julius Caesar. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



SonDets. 
54. 



113 



Sonnets. 
54. 



A Lover's Com- 
plaint, 



As the perfumed tincture of the roses, 
Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly 
When summer's breath their masked buds disclo- 
ses : 
But, for their virtue only is their show, 
They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade ; 
Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so ; 
Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made. 



On the finger of a throned queen 
The basest jewel will be well esteem'd. 



O most potential love ! vow, bond, nor space, 
In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, 
For, thou art all, and all things else are thine. 
When thou impressest, what are precepts worth 
Of stale example ? When thou wilt inflame, 
How coldly those impediments stand forth 
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame ! 
Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 

'gainst shame. 
And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, 
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. 



114 



p. 

Parting strikes poor lovers dumb. 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

ii. — 2. 

Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

iv.— 1. 

v.— 2. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

ii. — 1. 

v.— 3. 

Taming of the 
Shrew. 

iv. — 4. 

A Winter's Tale. 
iv.— 3. 


Praise we may afford 
To any lady that subdues a lord. 


Past cure is still past care. 


Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. 


Praising what is lost, 
Makes the remembrance dear. 


- Pitchers have ears. 


Prosperity 's the very bond of love ; 

Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together 

Affliction alters. 



115 



King- Richard II. 



King Henry IV. 
Part 2.— i.— 3. 



Kiug Henry VI. 
Part 2.— L— 1. 



King Richard 
III. 



King Henry 
VIII. 

iii. — 2. 



Romeo & Juliet. 
i.— 5. 



Hamlet, 
iii- 2. 



Pride must have a fall. 



Past and to come, seem best ; things present, 
worst. 



Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their 
pillage. 



Princes have but their titles for their glories, 
An outward honour for an inward toil ; 
And, for unfelt imaginations, 
They often feel a world of restless cares : 
So that, between their titles, and low name, 
There 's nothing differs but the outward fame. 



Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a style. 



Press not a falling man too far ; 't is virtue : 
His faults lie open to the laws ; let them, 
Not you, corrept him. 



Palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. 



Purpose is but the slave to memory ; 
Of violent birth, but poor validity. 



116 





Cymbeline. 


Poor wretches that depend 


v.— 4. 


On greatness' favour dream as I have done ; 




Wake, and find nothing. 


Othello. 




Pleasure, and action, make the hours seem short. 


ii.— 3. 
iii. — 3. 


Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough ; 


But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter, 




To him that ever fears he shall be poor. 


King- Lear. 




Proper deformity seems not in the fiend 


iv.— 2. 


So horrid as in woman. 


Macbeth. 




Present fears 


i.— 3. 


Are less than horrible imaginings. 




Plenteous joys, 


i.— 4. 


Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves 




In drops of sorrow. 


Timon of Athens 


, 


Pity is the virtue of the law, - 


iii. — 5. 


And none but tyrants use it cruelly. 


v.— 1. 


Promising is the very air o' the time ; 


It opens the eyes of expectation : 




Performance is ever the duller for his act ; 




And, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, 





117 



Timon of Athens 
v.— 1. 

Troilus and Cres- 
sida. 

ii.— 2. 

iii. — 3. 

Pericles, 
i.— 2. 

Julius Csesar. 
iii.— 1. 

The 
liape of Lucrece. 


The deed of saying is quite out of use. 
To promise is most courtly and fashionable : 
Performance is a kind of will, or testament, 
Which argues a great sickness in his judgment 
That makes it. 


Pleasure and revenge 
Have ears more deaf than adders, to the voice 
Of any true decision. 


Pride hath no other glass 
To show itself, but pride : for, supple knees 
Feed arrogance, and are the proud man's fees. 


Peaceful night, 
The tomb where grief should sleep. 


Passion is catching. 


Poor wretches have remorse in poor abuses. 


Pain pays the income of each precious thing ; 
Huge rocks, high winds, strong pirates, shelves 

and sands, 
The merchant fears, ere rich at home he lands. 



118 



Q. 

Quarrelling 
Is valour misbegot, and came into the world 
When sects and factions were newly born. 



Timon of Athens 
iii. — 5. 



119 



As You Like It. 
v. — 4. 



Measure for 
Measure. 



iii. — 1. 



Rich honesty dwells like a miser, in a poor house; 
as your pearl in your foul oyster. 



Reason thus with life : 
Tf I do lose thee, I do lose a thing 
That none but fools would keep : * a breath thou 

art, 
(Servile to all the skiey influences,) 
That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, 
Hourly afflict : merely, thou art death's fool ; 
For, him thou labour' st by thy flight to shun, 
And yet runn'st toward him still : Thou art not 

noble ; 
For, all the accommodations that thou bear'st 

* Keep — care for. Mr. Knight, in his valuable and elegant 
" Pictorial Edition of the Works of Shakspere," refers, in illustra- 
tion of the sense in which this word is here used, to Wiclif's 
translation of the New Testament — Luke, x, 40. — " And she stood, 
and said, Lord, takest thou no keep that my sister hath left me 
alone to serve ? " 



120 



Measure for 
Measure. 



Are nurs'd by baseness : Thou art by no means 

valiant ; 
For, thou dost fear the soft and tender fork 
Of a poor worm : Thy best of rest is sleep, 
And that thou oft provok'st ; yet grossly fear'st 
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thy- 
self ; 
For, thou exist'st on many a thousand grains 
That issue out of dust : Happy thou art not : 
For, what thou hast not still thou striv'st to get; 
And what thou hast, forgett'st : Thou art not 

certain ; 
For, thy complexion shifts to strange effects, 
After the moon : If thou art rich, thou art poor ; 
For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, 
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, 
And death unloads thee : Friend hast thou none ; 
For, thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, 
The mere effusion of thy proper loins, 
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, 
For ending thee no sooner : Thou hast nor youth, 

nor age, 
But, as it were, an after -dinner's sleep, 
Dreaming on both : for, all thy blessed youth 
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms 
Of palsied eld ; and when thou art old, and rich, 
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, 
To make thy riches pleasant. What 's yet in this, 
That bears the name of life ? Yet in this life 
Lie hid more thousand deaths : yet death we fear, 
That makes these odds all even. 



121 



King Henry IV. 

Fart 2.— Induc- 
tion. 

iii.-l. 

King- Henry VI. 
Part L— ii.— 3. 

Part 2. — i. — 1. 
Part 3. — i. — 4. 

Pvomeo & Juliet, 
ii.— 3. 

Hamlet, 
iii. — 4. 

iv.— 4. 


Rumour is a pipe 
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures; 
And of so easy and so plain a stop, 
That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, 
The still- discordant wavering multitude, 
Can play upon it. 


Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo, 
The numbers of the feared. 


Report is fabulous and false. 


Rancour will out. 


Raging wind blows up incessant showers, 
And when the rage allays, the rain begins. 


Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. 


Repent what 's past : avoid what is to come : 
And do not spread the compost o'er the weeds, 
To mak^ them rank. 


Rightly to be great, 
Is, not to stir without great argument, 
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, 
When honour 's at the stake. 



122 



Reputation is an idle and most false imposition ; 
oft got without merit, and lost without deserv- 
ing. 



Rain added to a river that is rank, 
Perforce will force it overflow the bank. 



Rich preys make true men thieves. 



Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud ; 
Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, 
And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud. 



Othello. 
ii.-3. 



Venus & Adonis. 



Sonnets. 
35. 



123 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

iii.— 1. 



Comedy of Errors 
iii— 1. 



v.— 1. 



Love's Labour ' 
Lost. 

i.— 1. 



s. 



Scorn at first makes after-love the more. 



Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a merry 

feast 
To a niggardly host, and more sparing guest. 



Slander lives upon succession ; 
For ever housed, where it gets possession. 



Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue 
But moody and dull melancholy, 
Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair ; 
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop 
Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life ? 



Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, 

That will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; 



124 



Small have continual plodders ever won, 


Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 
i.— 1. 


Save base authority from others books. 




These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, 




That give a name to every fixed star, 




Have no more profit of their shining nights, 




Than those that walk, and wot not what they 




are. 




1 Too much to know is, to know nought but fame ; 




And every godfather can give a name. 


iii.— 1. 
iv.— 2. 

iv.— 3. 


Some men must love my lady, and some Joan. 


Society (saith the text) is the happiness of life. 


Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn. 




All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 




Service is no heritage. 


i.— 3. 


Strange is it, that our bloods, 


ii. — 3. 


Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, 




Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off 




In differences so mighty. 




Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. 


ii. — 5. 

A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

i.— 1. 


i Sickness is catching. 



]25 



A Midsummer 

Night's Dream. 

iii.— 2. 



v.— 1. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 

v.— 1. 



Much Ado About 
Nothing-. 

ii.— 1. 



ii. — 3. 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 

iv.— 2. 



Twelfth Night. 
ii.— 4. 



Sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow 
For debt that bankrout sleep doth sorrow owe. 



Scorn and derision never come in tears. 



Such tricks hath strong imagination ; 
That if it would but apprehend some joy, 
It comprehends some bringer of that joy; 
Or, in the night, imagining some fear, 
How easy is a bush suppos'd a bear ! 



Soft stillness, and the night, 
Become the touches of sweet harmony. 



Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. 



Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more ; 

Men were deceivers ever ; 
One foot in sea, and one on shore ; 

To one thing constant never. 



Still swine eat all the draff. 



She never told her love, 
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought ; 



126 





Twelfth Night. 


And, with a green and yellow melancholy, 


ii.-4, 


She sat, like patience on a monument, 




Smiling at grief. 




Some are born great, some achieve greatness, 


ii. — 5. 


and some have greatness thrust upon them. 


As You Like It. 




Since the little wit that fools have was silenced, 


i.— 2. 


the little foolery that wise men have makes a 




greater show. 


ii.— 1. 


Sweet are the uses of adversity ; 


Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 




Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.* 






Measure for 
Measure. 




Spirits are not finely touch' d 


i.— 1. 


But to fine issues : nor Nature never lends 




The smallest scruple of her excellence, 




But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 




Herself the glory of a creditor, 




Both thanks and use. 


ii.— 1. 


Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall : 


Some run from brakes of vice, and answer none ; 




1 And some condemned for a fault alone, f 




* A superstitious belief prevailed in and before Shakspere's time, 




| that stones very valuable for their medicinal qualities, were to be 




: found in the heads of toads. 




t There are many different opinions as to the reading and mean- 





127 



Measure for 
iMeasure. 
iv.— 2. 

A Winter's Tale, 
i.— 2. 

ii. — 3. 

King- John. 
i.— 1, 

iii. — 4. 

King- Richard II. 
i— 2. 

ii.— 1. 

iii. — 2. 

King- Henry V. 
ii.— 4. 


Seldom, when 
The steeled gaoler is the friend of men. 


Should all despair 
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 
Would hang themselves. 


Slander, 
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's. 


Some sins do bear their privilege on earth. 


Strong reasons make strange actions. 


Sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. 


Small showers last long, but sudden storms are 
short. 


Sweet love, I see, changing his property, 
Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate. 


Self-love is not so vile a sin 
As self-neglecting. 

ing of the latter part of this passage. We understand the meaning 
to be this : Some escape with impunity from the consequences of 
the most entangling vices, while others are frequently condemned 
for the commission of a single fault. 

1 



128 



Soldiers' stomachs always serve them well. 


King- Henry VI. 
Part 1. — ii. — 3. 

Part 2 — iii.— 1. 

iv.— 1. 

Part 3.— v.— 6. 

King- Richard 
III. 

i.— 4. 
ii.— 4. 

iii.— 1. 

Romeo & Juliet. 
L— 1. 

ii.— 2. 


Small curs are not regarded when they grin ; 
But great men tremble when the lion roars. 


Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep. 


Small things make base men proud. 


Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind ; 
The thief doth fear each bush an officer. 


Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, — 
Makes the night morning, and the noontide night. 


Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow 
apace. 


Sweet flowers are slow, and weeds make haste. 


Short summers lightly*' have a forward spring. 


Sad hours seem long. 


Stony limits cannot hold love out. 

* Lightly— generally. 



129 



Romeo & Juliet. 




iii. — 5. 


Some grief shows much of love ; 




But much of grief shows still some want of wit. 


Hamlet. 




iv.— 1. 


Slander, 




Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, 




As level as the cannon to his blank, 




Transports his poison'd shot. 


iv.— 5. 


So full of artless jealousy is guilt, 




It spills itself, in fearing to be spilt. 


Cymbeline. 




L— 5. 
iii.— 2. 


Strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. 


Some griefs are med'cinable. 


iii. — 4. 


Slander, 




Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose 




tongue 




Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath 




Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie 




All corners of the world, — kings, queens, and 




states, 




Maids, matrons, — nay, the secrets of the grave 




This viperous slander enters. 


iv.— 2. 


Society is no comfort 




To one not sociable. 



130 



Some falls are means the happier to arise. 


Cymbeline. 
iv — 2. 

King Lear, 
i.— 4. 

Macbeth. 
ii. — 2. 

iii. — 5. 

Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

i.— 1. 

iii.— 2. 
iv. — 4. 

iv. — 5. 


Sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 
To have a thankless child. 


Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well. 


Sleep, that knits up the ravel? d sleave of care, 
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, 
Chief nourisher in life's feast. 


Security- 
Is mortal's chiefest enemy. 


Sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness 
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. 


Shame 's a baby. 


Sometimes we are devils to ourselves, 
When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, 
Presuming on their changeful potency. 


Sweet love is food for fortune's tooth. 



131 



Julius Csesar. 
v.— 1. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

ii.-2. 



Titus Andro- 
nicus. 
i.— 2. 



ii. — 1. 



ii. — 5. 



The Rape of 
Lucrece. 



Since the affairs of men rest still incertain, 
Let 's reason with the worst that may befall. 



Small to greater matters must give way. 



Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. 



Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge. 



She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd ; 
She is a woman, therefore may be won. 



Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, 
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. 



Sad pause and deep regard beseem the sage. 



Small lights are soon blown out, huge fires abide, 
And with the wind in greater fury fret : 
The petty streams that pay a daily debt 

To their salt sovereign, with their fresh falls' 
haste, 

Add to his flow, but alter not his taste. 



Sad souls are slain in merry company ; 

Grief best is pleased with grief's society : 
True sorrow then is feelingly sufflc'd 
When with like semblance it is sympathised. 



132 





The 


Sorrow, like a heavy-hanging bell, 


Rape of Lucrece. 


Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes ; 




Then little strength rings out the doleful knell. 






Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining. 




Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps ; 




And they that watch, see time how slow it 


' 


creeps. 


Sonnets. 


Sparing justice feeds iniquity. 




Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy. 


8. 
45. 


Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless 


sea, 
But sad mortality o'ersways their power, 




How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, 




Whose action is no stronger than a flower ? 




0, how shall summer's honey breath hold out 




Against the wreckful siege of battering days, 




When rocks impregnable are not so stout, 




Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays ? 




fearful meditation ; where, alack ! 




Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid ? 




Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back? 




Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid ? 


102. 


Sweets grown common lose their dear delight. 



133 



Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

L— 1. 

i.— 2. 

ii. — 2. 

ii. — 7. 


T. 

To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; 
Coy looks with heart- sore sighs ; one fading mo- 
ment's mirth 
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights- : 
If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain ; 
If lost, why then a grievous labour won ; 
However, but a folly bought with wit, 
Or else a wit by folly vanquished. 


They do not love that do not show their love. 


They love least that let men know their love. 


To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. 


Truth hath better deeds than words to grace it. 


The current that with gentle murmur glides, 
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth 
rage; 



134 



But, when his fair course is not hindered, 


Two Gentlemen 

of Verona. 

ii.— 7. 


He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, 




Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 




He overtake th in his pilgrimage ; 




And so by many winding nooks he strays, 




With willing sport, to the wild ocean. 


iii. — 1. 


Tender youth is soon suggested.* 


That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, 


If with his tongue, he cannot win a woman. 


v. — 4. 


To die, is to be banish' d from myself. 


Time is the nurse and breeder of all good. 


To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue. 


'T is the curse in love, and still appro v'd, 


When women cannot love, where they 're belov'd. 


Comedy of Errors 
ii. — 1- 


The private wound is deepest. 


The jewel best enamelled 


Will lose his beauty ; and though gold 'bides still, 




* Suggested— tempted. 





135 



Comedy of Errors 
ii.— 1. 



That others touch, yet often touching will 
Wear gold. 



ii.— 2. There 's no time for a man to recover his hair, 

that grows bald by nature. 



There 's many a man hath more hair than wit. 



iii.— 2. 'X is holy sport, to be a little vain,* 

When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife. 



v.— 1. 



Love's Labour 
Lost. 



iv.— 2. 



v,-2. 



The venom clamours of a jealous woman 
Poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth. 



The moon was a month old, when Adam was no 

more; 
And raught not to five weeks, when he came to 

fivescore. 



The blood of youth burns not with such excess, 
As gravity's revolt to wantonness. 



There 's no such sport as sport by sport o'er- 
thrown. 



The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen 
As is the razor's edge invisible, 

* Fawir— false, light of tongue. 



136 



Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen ; 


Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 
v.— 2. 


Above the sense of sense : so sensible 




Seemeth their conference ; their conceits have 




wings, 




Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swif- 




ter things. 




J That sport best pleases that doth least know how. 


To wail friends lost, 


Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, 




As to rejoice at friends but newly found. 




1 
The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs 


of Apollo. 






All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 




The hind that would be mated by the lion 


i— I. 


Must die for love. 




The mightiest space in fortune nature brings 


To join like likes, and kiss like native things. 




Impossible be strange attempts to those 




That weigh their pains in sense ; and do suppose 




What hath been, cannot be. 


i.— 3. 


Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no 


hurt ; it will wear the surplice of humility over 




the black gown of a big heart. 





137 



! All *s Well That 

Ends Well. 

i.-8. 


'T is often seen, 




Adoption strives with nature ; and choice breeds 


ii — 3. 


A native slip to us from foreign seeds. 


That is honour's scorn 




Which challenges itself as honour's born, 




And is not like the sire : Honours thrive, 




When rather from our acts we them derive 




Than our fore -goers : the mere word 's a slave, 




Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave 




A lying trophy ; and as oft is dumb, 




Where dust, and damn'd oblivion, is the tomb 


iii. — 5. 


Of honour'd bones indeed. 


There is no fettering of authority. 


'T is a hard bondage, to become the wife 


iv.— 2. 


Of a detesting lord. 


'T is not the many oaths that make the truth ; 




But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true. 




What is not holy, that we swear not by ; 


IT.— 3. 


But take the Highest to witness. 


The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good 




and ill together ; our virtues would be proud if 




our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes 




would despair, if they were not cherished by 




out virtues. 



138 



There 's place and means for every man alive. 



All 's Well That 

Ends Well. 

iv.— 3. 



The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. 



The course of true love never did run smooth : 
But, either it was different in blood ; 
Or else misgraffed, in respect of years ; 
Or else it stood upon the choice of friends ; 
Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, 
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it ; 
Making it momentary as a sound, 
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, 
Brief as the lightning in the collied night, 
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, 
And ere a man hath power to say, — Behold ! 
The jaws of darkness do devour it up : 
So quick bright things come to confusion. 



A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

i.— 1. 



Things base and vile, holding no quantity, 
Love can transpose to form and dignity. 



Therefore is love said to be a child, 
Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd. 



The heresies that men do leave 
Are hated most of those they did deceive. 



ii. — 3. 



139 



A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

v.— 1. 



Taming- of the 
Shrew. 

i.— 1. 



ii.— 1. 



iv.— 3. 



Merchant of 
Venice. 

i.— 1. 



The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, 

Are of imagination all compact : 

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold — 

That is the madman : the lover, all as frantic, 

Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt : 

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, 

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to 

heaven, 
And, as imagination bodies forth 
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen 
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing 
A local habitation and a name. 



There 's small choice in rotten apples. 



Though little fire grows great with little wind, 
Yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. 



The poorest service is repaid with thanks. 



'T is the mind that makes the body rich ; 
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, 
So honour peereth in the meanest habit. 



Time it is, when raging war is done, 
To smile at 'scapes and perils overblown. 



There are a sort of men, whose visages 

Do cream and mantle like a standing pond ; 



140 



And do a wilful stillness entertain, 


Merchant of 
Venice, 
i.— 1. 


With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 




Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit ; 




As who should say, " I am Sir Oracle, 




And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark." 


i.— 2. 


They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as 


they that starve with nothing : It is no small 




happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; 




superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but 




competency lives longer. 




The brain may devise laws for the blood ; but a 


hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree : such a 




hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the 




meshes of good counsel the cripple. 


i.— 3. 


Thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. 


The devil can cite scripture for "his purpose. 




Truth will come to light ; murder cannot be hid 


ii.-2. 


long ; a man's son may ; but, in the end, truth 




will out. 




To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, 


ii. — 9. 


And of opposed natures. 





141 



Merchant of 
Venice. 
ii, — 9. 



iii. — 2. 



The ancient saying is no heresy ; — 
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. 



Tell me where is fancy bred, 
Or in the heart, or in the head ? 
How begot, how nourished ? 

Reply, reply. 
It is engender' d in the eyes, 
With gazing fed ; and fancy dies 
In the cradle where it lies. 



The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. 
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, 
But, being season' d with a gracious voice, 
Obscures the show of evil ? In religion, 
What damned error, but some sober brow 
Will bless it, and approve it with a text, 
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ? 
There is no vice so simple, but assumes 
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts. 
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
As stayers of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars, 
Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk; 
And these assume but valour's excrement, 
To render them redoubted ! Look on beauty, 
And you shall see 't is purchas'd by the weight ; 
Which therein works a miracle in nature, 
Making them lightest that wear most of it : 
So are those crisped snaky golden locks, 



142 



Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 

Upon supposed fairness, often known 

To be the dowry of a second head, 

The scull that bred them in the sepulchre. 

Thus ornament is but the guiled shore 

To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf 

Veiling an Indian beauty ; in a word, 

The seeming truth which cunning times put on 

To entrap the wisest. 



The weakest kind of fruit 
Drops earliest to the ground. 



The quality of mercy is not s train' d ; 

It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven 

Upon the place beneath ; it is twice bless' d ; 

It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 

'T is mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown : 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

"Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 

But mercy is above this sceptred sway, 

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 

It is an attribute to God himself ; 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's 

When mercy seasons justice. 



The man that hath no music in himself, 

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, 

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; 



Merchant of 
Venice. 
iii. — 2. 



iv.— 1. 



143 



Merchant of 

Venice. 

v.— 1. 

Much Ado About 
Nothing. 

i.—l. 
ii — 1. 
iii. — 1. 

iii. — 3. 

iv.— 1. 


The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
And his affections dark as Erebus : 
Let no such man be trusted. 


The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, 
When neither is attended ; and, I think, 
The nightingale, if she should sing by day 
When every goose is cackling, would be thought 
No better a musician than the wren. 


Trouble being gone, comfort should remain. 


Time goes on crutches, till Love have all his rites. 


The pleasantest angling is to see the fish 
Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, 
And greedily devour the treacherous bait. 


They that touch pitch will be denied. 


The ewe that will not hear her lamb when it 
baes, will never answer a calf when he bleats. 


The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. 


To strange sores strangely they strain the cure. 



144 



Tis all men's office to speak patience 
To those that wring under the load of sorrow ; 
But no man's virtue, nor sufficient 
To be so moral, when he shall endure 
The like himself. 



There was never yet philosopher 
That could endure the tooth-ach patiently ; 
However they have writ the style of gods, 
And made a push at chance and sufferance.^ 



There 's not one wise man among twenty that 
will praise himself. 



Though love use reason for his precisian, he ad- 
mits him not for his counsellor. 



They say, there is divinity in odd numbers, either 
in nativity, chance, or death. 



Thought is free. 



There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he 
do nothing but rail ; nor no railing in a known 
discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. 

* That is, defied chance and sufferance. 



Much Ado 
About Nothing-. 



v.— 2. 



Merry Wives of 
Windsor. 



ii.— 1. 



v.— 1. 



Twelfth Night. 
i.— 3. 



145 



Twelfth Night. 
Hi.— 1. 



iii. — 2. 



iii. — 4. 



iv.— 2. 



A 8 You Like It. 
i.— 2. 



This fellow is wise enough to play the fool ; 

And to do that well, craves a kind of wit : 

He must observe their mood on whom he jests, 

The quality of persons and the time ; 

And. like the haggard, check at every feather 

That comes before his eye. This is a practice 

As full of labour as a wise man's art : 

For, folly that he wisely shows, is fit ; 

But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit. 



'T was never merry world, 
Since lowly feigning was call'd compliment. 



There is no love -broker in the world can more 
prevail in man's commendation with woman, 
than report of valour. 



T is notfor gravity to play at cherry-pit withSatan. 



There is no darkness but ignorance. 



The whirligig of time brings in his revenges. 



The dulness of the fool is the whetstone of the 
wits. 



The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely, 
what wise men do foolishly. 



146 



Treason is not inherited. 



To some kind of men 
Their graces serve them but as enemies. 



Travellers must be content. 



As You Like It. 
i— 3. 



ii. — 3. 



Those that are good manners at the court are as | 
ridiculous in the country, as the behaviour of 
the country is most mockable at the court. 



Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. 



The truest poetry is the most feigning; and lovers 
are given to poetry ; and what they swear in 
poetry, may be said, as lovers, they do feign. 



The oath of a lover is no stronger than the word 
of a tapster ; they are both the confirmer of 
false reckonings. 



The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. 



The poor world is almost six thousand years old, 



iii. — 2. 



iii.— 3. 



iii. — 4. 



To have seen much, and to have nothing, is to j iv.—i. 
have rich eyes and poor hands. 



147 



As You Like It. 
iv.— 1. 



and in all this time there was not any man died 
in his own person, videlicet, in a love -cause. 
Troilus had his brains dashed out with a Gre- 
cian club : yet he did what he could to die be- 
fore, and he is one of the patterns of love. 
Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, 
though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been 
for a hot midsummer night : for, good youth, 
he went but forth to wash him in the Helles- 
pont, and, being taken with the cramp, was 
drowned ; and the foolish chroniclers of that 
age found it was- — Hero of Sestos. But these 
are all lies ; men have died from time to time, 
and worms have eaten them, but not for love. 



Time is the old justice that examines all offenders. 



The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man 
knows himself to be a fool. 



Tell this youth what 't is to love : 
It is to be all made of sighs and tears ; 
It is to be all made of faith and service ; 
It is to be all made of fantasy, 
All made of passion, and all made of wishes ; 
All adoration, duty and observance, 
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, 
All purity, all trial, all observance. 



148 



Then is there mirth in heaven, 

; When earthly things made even 

Atone together. 


As You Like It. 
v.— 1. 

Measure for 
Measure. 

ii. — 1. 

ii. — 2. 

iii. — 1. 


'T is one thing to be tempted, 
Another thing to fall. 


The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, 
May, in the sworn twelve, have a thief or two 
Guiltier than him they try. 


The jewel that we find, we stoop and take it, 
Because we see it ; but what we do not see 
We tread upon, and never think of it. 


That in the captain ? s but a choleric word, 
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy. 


Thieves for their robbery have authority, 
When judges steal themselves. 


The miserable have no other medicine, 
But only hope. 


The sense of death is most in apprehension ; 
And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, 
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great 
As when a giant dies. 



149 



Measure for 
Measure. 



iii. — 1. 



iii. — 2. 



v.— 1. 



'T is the cunning livery of hell, 
The damned'st body to invest and cover 
In precise guards. 



To die, and go we know not where ; 
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; 
This sensible warm motion to become 
A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit 
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside 
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; 
To be imprisoned in the viewless winds, 
And blown with restless violence round about 
The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst 
Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts 
Imagine howling ! — 't is too horrible ! 
The weariest and most loathed worldly life, 
That age, ach, penury, and imprisonment 
Can lay on nature, is a paradise 
To what we fear of death. 



That we were all, as some would seem to be, 
From our faults, as faults from seeming, free ! 



Truth is truth 



To the end of reckoning. 



That life is better life, past fearing death, 
Than that which lives to fear. 



150 



They say, best men are moulded out of faults ; 
And, for the most, become much more the better 
For being a little bad. 



Thoughts are no subjects ; 
Intents but merely thoughts. 



'T is safer to 
Avoid what 's grown than question how 't is born. 



The silence often of pure innocence 
Persuades, when speaking fails. 



To have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble 
hand, is necessary for a cutpurse ; a good nose 
is requisite also, to smell out work for the 
other senses. 



Though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is 
oft led by the nose with gold : show the inside 
of your purse to the outside of his hand, and 
no more ado. 



Too light winning 



Makes the prize light. 



There be some sports are painful; and their labour 
Delight in them sets off : some kinds of baseness 
Are nobly undergone ; and most poor matters 
Point to rich ends. 



Measure for 

Measure, ; 

v.-l. 



A Winter's Tale. 
i.-^S. 



ii. — 2. 



iv.— 3. 



The Tempest, 
i.— 2. 



151 



The Tempest, 
iii.— 3. 



v.^-1. 



King John, 
iii.— 1. 



Travellers ne'er did lie 
Though fools at home condemn them. 



The strongest oaths are straw 
To the fire i' the blood. 



The rarer action is 
In virtue than in vengeance. 



The better act of purposes mistook 

Is, to mistake again ; though indirect, 

Yet indirection thereby grows direct, 

And falsehood falsehood cures ; as fire cools fire, 

Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd. 



To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 

To throw a perfume on the violet, 

To smooth the ice, or add another hue 

Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, 

Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess. 



There is no sure foundation set on blood ; 
No certain life achiev'd by others' death. 



This England never did, nor never shall, 
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, 
But when it first did help to wound itself. 



152 



Come the three corners of the world in arms, 
And we shall shock them : Nought shall make 

us rue, 
If England to itself do rest but true. 


King John. 

v.— 7. 

King Richard II. 
L— 1. 

i.—2. 
i.— 3. 


The more fair and crystal is the sky, 
i The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. 


The purest treasure mortal times afford 

Is spotless reputation ; that away, 

Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. 

A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest 

Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. 

Mine honour is my life ; both grow in one : 

Take honour from me, and my life is done. 


That which in mean men we entitle patience 
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. 


Truth hath a quiet breast. 


Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. 


There is no virtue like necessity. 


The apprehension of the good 
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. 



153 



King Richard II. 




ii. — 1. 


The tongues of dying men 




Enforce attention, like deep harmony ; 




Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent 




in vain ; 




For, they breathe truth, that breathe their words 




in pain. 




He, that no more must say, is listened more 




Than they whom youth and ease have taught 




to glose : 




More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives be- 




fore ; 




The setting sun, and music at the close, 




(As the last taste of sweets is sweetest,) last, 




Writ in remembrance more than things long past. 




The ripest fruit first falls. 


ii. — 3. 


Thanks, th' exchequer of the poor. 


iii. — 3. 


They well deserve to have, 


v.— 5. 


That know the strong' st and surest way to get. 


Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot 




Unlikely wonders. 


Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves 




That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, 



154 



1 


King Richard II. 


1 Nor shall not be the last ; like silly beggars, 


v.— 5. 


Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame, 




That many have, and others must sit there ; 




And in this thought they find a kind of ease, 




Bearing their own misfortunes on the back 




Of such as have before endur'd the like. 


v.— 6. 
King Henry IV. 


! They love not poison that do poison need. 




The blood more stirs 


Part 1. — i. — 3. 


! 

! To rouse a lion than to start a hare. 


ii. — 3. 


'T is dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink: 


but, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this 




flower, safety. 


ii.— 4. 


Though the camomile, the more it is trodden the 


faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, 




the sooner it wears. 


iii.-l. 

iii. — 2. 

iw— 2. 


Tell truth, and shame the devil. 


The end of life cancels all bands. 


To the latter end of a fray, and the beginning of 


a feast, 




Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest. 





155 



King Henry IV. 
Part!.— v.— 2. 

v.-4. 

Part 2.— i.— 1. 
ii. — 4. 


i 

Treason is but trusted like the fox ; 
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish'd, and lock'd up, 
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. 


The time of life is short ; 
To spend that shortness basely were too long, 
If life did ride upon a dial's point, 
Still ending at the arrival of an hour. 


Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. 


Thought 's the slave of life, and life time's fool; 
And time, that takes survey of all the world, 
Must have a stop. 


The better part of valour is discretion. 


The first bringer of unwelcome news 
Hath but a losing office ; and his tongue 
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, 
Remember' d knolling a departing friend. 


The thing that 's heavy in itself, 
Upon enforcement, flies with greatest speed. 


The undeserver may sleep, when the man of ac- 
tion is called on. 



156 



There is a history in all men's lives, 

Figuring the nature of the times deceas'd : 

The which observed, a man may prophesy, 

With a near aim, of the main chance of things 

As yet not come to life ; which in their seeds, 

And weak beginnings, lie in treasured : 

Such things become the hatch and brood of time. 



The old folk, time's doting chronicles. 



The strawberry grows underneath the nettle ; 
And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best 
Neighbour' d by fruit of baser quality. 



'T is ever common, 
That men are merriest when they are from home. 



Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod. 



There is flattery in friendship. 



King Henry IV. 
Part 2. — iii. — 1. 



King Henry V. 
i.— 1. 



That 's a valiant ilea, that dare eat his breakfast 
on the lip of a lion. 



| There is some soul of goodness in things evil, 

Would men observingly distil it out ; 
I For, our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, 



i.— 2. 



ii.-l. 



iii.— 7. 



157 



King- Henry V. 
iv.— 1. 



iv.— 3. 



iv. — 4. 



Which is both healthful and good husbandry : 
Besides, they are our outward consciences, 
And preachers to us all ; admonishing 
That we should dress us fairly for our end. 
Thus may we gather honey from the weed, 
And make a moral of the devil himself. 



'T is good for men to love their present pains, 
Upon example ; so the spirit is eas'd : 
And, when the mind is quicken' d, out of doubt, 
The organs, though defunct and dead before, 
Break up their drowsy grave, and newly move 
With casted slough and fresh legerity. 



The man that once did sell the lion's skin, 
While the beast liv'd, was kill'd with hunting him. 



The empty vessel makes the greatest sound. 



King- Henry VI. | 

Part i. — i. — 4. | The sun, with one eye, vieweth all the world. 



There are few die well that die in a battle ; for, 
how can they charitably dispose of anything, ; 
when blood is their argument ? 



v.— 3. 



To be a queen in bondage is more vile 
Than is a slave in base servility ; 
For, princes should be free. 



158 



'T is but a base ignoble mind 
That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. 



The snake, rolPd in a flowering bank, 
With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child, 
; That, for the beauty, thinks it excellent. 



That is good deceit 
Which mates him first that first intends deceit. 



King Henry VI. 
Part 2.— ii.— 1. 



The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb, i — iii.— 1. 



Things are often spoke, and seldom meant. 



Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; 
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, 
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. 



True nobility is exempt from fear. 



'T is beauty that doth oft make women proud ; 
'T is virtue that doth make them most admir'd ; 
'T is government that makes them seem divine. 



To weep, is to make less the depth of grief. 



iii.— 2. 



iv.— 1. 



Part 3 — i- 



ii — 1. 



159 



King- Henry VI. 




Part 3. — ii. — 2. 


The smallest worm will turn being trodden on ; 




And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. 


iii. — 3. 

iv. — 4. 


Time suppresseth wrongs. 


Trust not him that hath once broken faith. 


iv.— 8. 


The sun shines hot, and if we use delay 




Cold-biting winter mars our hop'd-for hay.* 


v.— 1. 


The harder match' d, the greater victory. 


v.— 6. 


The bird that hath been limed in a bush, 




"With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush. 


Kin? Richard 
III. 


i 


i.— 3. 


They that stand high have many blasts to shake 




them ; 




And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. f 




* We have, in these two lines, an elegant and poetical amplifica- 




tion of the old proverb — " Make hay while the sun shines." 




+ By way of comparison, a reference may be permitted in this 




place, to the beautiful lines of Horace (Book ii, Ode 10). 




Scepiils ventis agitatur ingens 




Pinus ; et celsoe graviore casu 




Decidunt turres ; feriuntque summos 




Fulmina montes. 




The translation subjoined is by Dr. Francis : 




" When high in air the pine ascends, 




To every ruder blast it bends. 



160 





King Richard 
III. 


Talkers are no good doers. 


i.— 3. 

iii.— 2. 


J T is a vile thing to die, 


When men are unprepar'd, and look not for it. 


v.— 2. 


True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings, 


Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. 






King- Henrv 
Till. * 


To climb steep hills 


i.— 1. 


Requires slow pace at first. 




The fire that mounts the liquor till it run o'er, 




In seeming to augment it, wastes it. 




Things done well, 


i.— 2. 


1 And with a care, exempt themselves from fear : 




| Things done without example, in their issue 




Are to be fear'd. 




'T is better to be lowly born, 


ii. — 3. 


And range with humble livers in content, 




; Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, 




And wear a golden sorrow. 




The palace falls with heavier weight, 




When tumbling from its airy height; 




And when from heaven the lightning flies, 




It blasts the hills, that proudest rise." 





161 



King- Henry 
VIII. 
iii. — 1. 


Truth loves open dealing. 


The hearts of princes kiss obedience, 




So much they love it ; but to stubborn spirits 


iii. — 2. 


They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. 


; T is a kind of good deed to say well : 


v.— 2. 


And yet words are no deeds. 


Those that tame wild horses 




Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle; 




But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and 




spur them, 




Till they obey the manage. 


'T is a cruelty 


Romeo & Juliet, 


To load a falling man. 




i.— 3. 


That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, 


ii. — 3. 


That in gold clasps locks in the golden story. 


The earth, that 's nature's mother, is her tomb ; 




What is her burying grave, that is her womb : 




And from her womb children of divers kind 




We sucking on her natural bosom find : 




Many for many virtues excellent, 




None but for some, and yet all different. 




0, mickle is the powerful grace that lies 



162 



In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities : 
For, nought so vile that on the earth doth live, 
But to the earth some special good doth give ; 
Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, 
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse ; 
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied ; 
And vice sometime 's by action dignified. 


Romeo & Juliet. 
ii. — 3. 

ii. — 4. 
ii. — 6. 

iv.— 1. 
iv — 2. 
iv. — 5. 


They stumble, that run fast. 


Two may keep counsel, putting one away. 


The sweetest honey 
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, 
And in the taste confounds the appetite. 


Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. 


That is no slander which is a truth. 


'T is an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers. 


Though some nature * bids us all lament, 
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. 

* Some nature — some feelings of nature. 



163 



Hamlet. 
i.— 2. 



i.— 3. 



i.— 5. 



ii. — 2. 



To persever 
In obstinate condolement, is a course 
Of impious stubbornness; 't is unmanly grief; 
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven ; 
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, 
An understanding simple and unschool'd : 
For, what we know must be, and is as common 
As any the most vulgar thing to sense, 
Why should we, in our peevish opposition, 
Take it to heart ? Fye ! 't is a fault to heaven, 
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, 
To reason most absurd ; whose common theme 
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, 
From the first corse, till he that died to-day, 
" This must be so." 



The chariest maid is prodigal enough, 
If she unmask her beauty to the moon. 



The canker galls the infants of the spring, 
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd ; 
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth 
Contagious blastments are most imminent. 



There are more things in heaven and earth 
Than are dreamt of in our philosophy. 



To be honest as this world goes, is to be one man 
picked out of two thousand. 



164 





Hamlet. 


There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking 


ii.— 2. 


makes it so. 




The very substance of the ambitious is merely the 


shadow of a dream. 




The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ce- 


remony. 




The devil hath power 


To assume a pleasing shape. 


iii.— 1. 


'T is too much prov'd, that, with devotion's visage, 


And pious action, we do sugar o'er 




The devil himself. 




To be, or not to be, that is the question : 




Whether 't is nobler in the mind, to suffer 




The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 




Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 




And by opposing, end them ? — To die, — to 




sleep, — 




No more ; and, by a sleep, to say we end 




The heart- ach, and the thousand natural shocks 




That flesh is heir to, — 't is a consummation 




Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, — to sleep ; — 




To sleep ! perchance to dream ; — ay, there 's the 




rub ; 





165 



Hamlet. 
iii. — 1. 



For, in that sleep of death what dreams may come, 
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 
Must give us pause : there 's the respect, 
That makes calamity of so long life : 
For, who would bear the whips and scorns of 

time, 
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's con- 
tumely, 
The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay, 
The insolence of office, and the spurns 
That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 
When he himself might his quietus make 
With a bare bodkin ? who would these fardels 

bear, 
To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; 
But that the dread of something after death, 
The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn 
No traveller returns, puzzles the will ; 
And makes us rather bear those ills we have, 
Than fly to others that we know not of ? 
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 
And thus the native hue of resolution 
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought ; 
And enterprizes of great pith and moment, 
With this regard, their currents turn away, 
And lose the name of action. 



To the noble mind, 
Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. 



The violence of either grief or joy 



166 



Their own enactures with themselves destroy : 
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament, 
Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. 



Hamlet, 
iii. — 2 



This world is not for aye ; nor 't is not strange, 
That even our loves should with our fortunes 

change : 
For, 't is a question left us yet to prove 
Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. 
The great man down, you mark, his favourite flies; 
The poor advanc'd, makes friends of enemies. 
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend : 
For, who not needs, shall never lack a friend ; 
And who in want a hollow friend doth try, 
Directly seasons him his enemy. 



The single and peculiar life is bound, 
With all the strength and armour of the mind, 
To keep itself from 'noyance ; but much more 
That spirit, upon whose spirit depend and rest 
The lives of many. The cease of majesty 
Dies not alone ; but, like a gulf, doth draw 
What 's near it with it : it is a massy wheel, 
Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, 
To whose huge spokes, ten thousand lesser things 
Are rnortis'd and adjoin' d ; which, when it falls, 
Each small annexment, petty consequence, 
Attends the boist'rous ruin. 



iii.—- 3. 



To be too busy, is some danger. 



iii. — 4. 



167 



Hamlet, 
iii. — 4. 



iv.— 5. 



v.— 1. 



That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat- 
Of habits devil, — is angel yet in this, — 
That to the use of actions fair and good 
He likewise gives a frock, or livery, 
That aptly is put on. 



'T is the sport, to have the engineer 
Hoist with his own petar.* 



There 's such divinity doth hedge a king, 
That treason can but peep to what it would, 
Acts little of his will. 



There lives within the very flame of love 

A kind of wick, or snuff, that will abate it ; 

And nothing is at a like goodness still ; 

For, goodness, growing to a plurisy, 

Dies in his own too-much : That we would do, 

We should do when we would ; for, this would 

changes, 
And hath abatements and delays as many, 
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents ; 
And then this should is like a spendthrift sigh, 
That hurts by easing. 



The more pity, that great folk should have coun- 
tenance in this world to drown or hang them- 
selves, more than their even christian. 

* Blown up with his own engine. 



168 



There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, 
ditchers, and grave-makers ; they hold up 
Adam's profession. 



The hand of little employment hath the daintier 
sense. 



'T is dangerous, when the baser nature comes 
Between the pass and fell incensed points 
Of mighty opposites. 



To know a man well, were to know himself. 



There 's a special providence in the fall of a^par- 
row. 



The cloyed will, 
(That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, 
That tub both fill'd and running,) ravening first 
The lamb, longs after for the garbage. 



'T is gold 
Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the 

thief ; 
Nay, sometimes, hangs both thief and true man : 

what 
Can it not do, and undo ? 



Hamlet, 
v.— 1. 



v.— 2. 



Cymbeline. 
i.— 7. 



ii.-3. 



169 



Cymbeline. 
iii.— 4. 


Though those that are betray'd 
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor 
Stands in worse case of woe. 


iii. — 6. 


To lapse in fulness 
Is sorer than to lie for need ; and falsehood 
Is worse in kings than beggars. 




The sweat of industry would dry, and die, 
But for the end it works to. 


iv.— 2. 


Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys, 
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys. 




Though mean and mighty, rotting 
Together, have one dust ; yet reverence 
(That angel of the world) doth make distinction 
Of place 'tween high and low. 




Thersites' body is as good as Ajax, 
When neither are alive. 


v.-4. 


Tavern bills are often the sadness of parting, as 
the procuring of mirth ; you come in faint for 
want of meat, depart reeling with too much 
drink; sorry that you have paid too much, 
and sorry that you are paid too much ; purse 



170 



and brain both empty ; the brain the heavier 
for being too light ; the purse too light, being 
drawn of heaviness. 


Cymbeline. 
v.-4. 

Othello, 
i.— 1. 

i.— 3. 

ii. — 1. 
iii. — 3. 


'T is the curse of service, 
Preferment goes by letter and affection, 
And not by old gradation, where each second 
Stood heir to the first. 


To mourn a mischief that is past and gone 
Is the next way to draw new mischief on. 


The robb'd that smiles steals something from the 

thief ; 
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. 


'T is in ourselves that we are thus, or thus. 


There 's none so foul, and foolish thereunto, 
But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. 


Trifles, light as air, 
Are to the jealous, confirmations strong 
As proofs of holy writ. 


'T is better to be much abus'd, 
Than but to know 't a little. 



171 



Othello. 
iii. — 3. 



iii. — 4. 



iv.— I. 



King Lear, 
i.— 1. 



There are a kind of men so loose of soul, 
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs. 



The hearts of old gave hands : 
But our new heraldry is — hands, not hearts. 



'T is not a year or two shows us a man. 



They laugh that win. 



Those that do teach young babes, 
Do it with gentle means and easy tasks. 



Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, 
When power to flattery bows? To plainness hon- 
our 's bound, 
When majesty falls to folly. 



Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides : 
Who covers faults, at last with shame derides. 



Truth 's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipp'd 
out, when the lady brach may stand by the fire 
and stink. 

That, sir, which serves and seeks for gain, 
And follows but for form, 



172 



Will pack, when it begins to rain, 
And leave thee in the storm. 


King Lear, 
ii.— 4. 

iii.— 2. 

iii. — 4. 
iv.— 1. 


To wilful men, 
The injuries that they themselves procure 
Must be their schoolmasters. 


There was never yer fair woman but she made 
mouths in a glass. 


The art of our necessities is strange, 
And can make vile things precious. 


Take physic, pomp ; 
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel ; 
That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, 
And show the heavens more just. 


To be worst, 
The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune, 
Stands still in esperance, lives not in fear : 
The lamentable change is from the best; 
The worst returns to laughter. 


The worst is not 
So long as we can say, " This is the worst. " 



173 



King Lear, 
iv.— 1. 

iv.— 2. 

iv.— 6. 

v.— 3. 

Macbeth. 
i.— 3. 

i.— 4. 

i. — 5. 
i.— 6. 


'T is the times' plague, when madmen lead the 
blind. 


That nature, which contemns its origin, 
Cannot be border' d certain in itself. 


Through tatter' d clothes small vices do appear ; 
Robes and furr'd gowns hide all. Plate sin with 

gold, 
And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks : 
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it. 


The best quarrels, in the heat, are curs' d 
By those that feel their sharpness. 


The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 
Make instruments to plague us. 


The earth hath bubbles, as the water has. 


There 's no art 
To find the mind's construction in the face. 


To alter favour ever is to fear. 


The love that follows us sometimes is our trouble, 
Which still we thank as love. 



174 



The sleeping, and the dead, 
Are but as pictures ; 't is the eye of childhood 
That fears a painted devil. 


Macbeth, 
ii.— 2. 

ii. — 3. 

iii.— 2. 
iii. — 4. 

iv.— 1. 


The labour we delight in physics pain. 


To show an unfelt sorrow is an office 
Which the false man does easy. 


There 's warrant in that theft 
Which steals itself, when there 's no mercy left. 


Things without all remedy, 
Should be without regard : what 's done is done. 


Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. 


The feast is sold 
That is not often vouch' d ; while 't is a making, 
'T is given with welcome : To feed, were best at 

home ; 
From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony ; 
Meeting were bare without it. 


The flighty purpose never is overtook, 
Unless the deed go with it. 



175 



Macbeth, 
iv.— 2. 


The poor wren, 
The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 




Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. 




Things at the worst will cease, or else climb up- 




ward 




To what they were before. 


iv.— 3. 


The grief that does not speak 




Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break. 




The night is long that never finds the day. 


v.— 4. 


Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate ; 
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate. 


v.— 5. 


To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 




Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 
To the last syllable of recorded time ; 




And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 




The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! 
Life 's but a walking shadow ; a poor player, 
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 




And then is heard no more : it is a tale 




Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 


Timon of Athens 
i.— 1. 


Signifying nothing. 


'T is not enough to help the feeble up, 
But to support him after. 



176 



1 


Timon of Athens 


The devil knew not what he he did when he made 


iii.— 3. 


man politic ; he crossed himself by^t. 


iii. — 5. 


To revenge is no valour, but to bear. 


To be in anger is impiety ; 


But who is man that is not angry ? 


iv— 3. 


Twinn'd brothers of one womb, — 


Whose procreation, residence, and birth, 




Scarce is dividant, — touch them with several for- 




tunes ; 




The greater scorns the lesser : Not nature, 




To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great for- 




tune, 




But by contempt of nature : 




Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord ; 




The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, 




The beggar native honour : 




It is the pasture lards the brother's sides, 




The want that makes him lean. 




There is boundless theft 


In limited* professions. 




The sun 's a thief, and with his great attraction 


Robs the vast sea : the moon 5 s an arrant thief, 




* Limited — authorized. 





177 



Timon of Athens 
iv.— 3. 



v.— 1. 



Troilus and Cres- 
sida. 



i— 3. 



And her pale fire she snatches from the sun : 
The sea 's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves 
The moon into salt tears : the earth 's a thief, 
That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen 
From general excrement : each thing 's a thief; 
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough 

power 
Have uncheck'd theft. 



There is no time so miserable but a man may be 
true. 



Then do we sin against our own estate, 
When we may profit meet, and come too late. 



The ample proposition that hope makes 
In all designs begun on earth below, 
Fails in the promis'd largeness : checks and dis- 
asters 
Grow in the veins of actions highest rear'd ; 
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, 
Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain 
Tortive and errant from his course of growth. 



The worthiness of praise distains his worth, 
If that the prais'd himself bring the praise forth : 
But what the repining enemy commends, 
That breath fame blows ; that praise, sole pure, 
transcends. 



173 



The wound of peace is surety, 


Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

ii.— 2. 


Surety secure : but modest doubt is call'd 




| The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches 




I To the bottom of the worst. 




To persist 


! In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, 




But makes it much more heavy. 




The amity that wisdom knits not, folly may easily 


ii. — 3. 


untie. 




The elephant hath joints, but none for courtesy : 


his legs are legs for necessity, not for flexure. 


iii. — 1. 
iii. — 2. 


The raven chides blackness. 


To make a sweet lady sad is a sour offence. 


To be wise, and love, 


Exceeds man's might : that dwells with gods a- 




bove.* 


iii.— 3. 


5 T is certain, greatness, once fallen out with for- 


tune, 




* We find this ancient truth expressed in precisely the same 




manner in the -writings of Laberius : " Amare et sapere vix Deo 




conceditur" 




" 'T is an old lesson ; Time approves it true." 





179 



Troilus and 
M Cressida. 
iii. — 3. 



Must fall out with men too : What the declin'd is, 

He shall as soon read in the eyes of others, 

As feel in his own fall : for, men, like butterflies, 

Show not their mealy wings but to the summer ; 

And not a man, for being simply man, 

Hath any honour : but honour for those honours 

That are without him, as place, riches, and favour, 

Prizes of accident as oft as merit : 

Which, when they fall, as being slippery standers, 

The love that lean'd on them as slippery too, 

Do one pluck down another, and together 

Die in the fall. 



The beauty that is borne here in the face 
The bearer knows not, but commends itself 
To others' eyes : nor doth the eye itself 
(That most pure spirit of sense) behold itself, 
Not going from itself; but eye to eye oppos'd 
Salutes each other with each other's form. 
For, speculation turns not to itself, 
Till it hath travell'd, and is married there 
Where it may see itself. 



Time hath a wallet at his back, 
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, 
A great -siz'd monster of ingratitudes : 
Those scraps are good deeds past: which are de- 
vour' d 
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 
As done : Perseverance 



180 



Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang 

Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail 

In monumental mockery. Take the instant way ; 

For, honour travels in a strait so narrow, 

Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path; 

For, emulation hath a thousand sons, 

That one by one pursue : If you give way, 

Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, 

Like to an enter' d tide, they all rush by, 

And leave you hindmost ; — 

Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank, 

Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, 

O'errun and trampled on : Then what they do in 

present, 
Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop 

yours : 
For, time is like a fashionable host, 
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the 

hand ; 
And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, 
Grasps-in the comer : Welcome ever smiles, 
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not virtue 

seek 
Remuneration for the thing it was ! 
For, beauty, wit, 

High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, 
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all 
To envious and calumniating time. 
One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, — 
That all, with one consent, praise newborn gawds, 
Though they are made and moulded of things past; 



Troilus and Cres- 

sida. 

iii. — 3. 



181 



T roil us and 
Cressida. 



iii.-3. 



iv. — 5. 



Pericles, 
i.— 1. 



And give to dust, that is a little gilt, 
More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. 



The present eye praises the present object. 



Things in motion sooner catch the eye, 
Than what not stirs. 



The providence that 's in a watchful state 
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold ; 
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive deeps ; 
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the 

gods, 
Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. 
There is a mystery (with whom relation 
Durst never meddle) in the soul of state ; 
Which hath an operation more divine 
Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to. 



Those wounds heal ill that men do give them- 
selves. 



To such as boasting show their scars, 
A mock is due. 



The blind mole casts 
Copp'd hills toward heaven, to tell, the earth is 

throng' d 
By man's oppression ; and the poor worm doth 

die for 't. 



182 



The passions of the mind, 
That have their first conception by mis-dread, 
Have after -nourishment and life by care ; 
And what was first but fear what might be done, 
i Grows elder now, and cares it be not done. 


Pericles, 
i.— 2. 

ii. — 3. 

ii. — 4. 
v.— 1. 

Coriolanus. 
i.— 1. 

ii.— 2. 


'T is time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss. 


Tyrants' fears 
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years. 


Time 's the king of men, 
For, he 's their parent, and he is their grave, 
And gives them what he will, not what they crave. 


To wisdom, he 's a fool that will not yield. 


Truth can never be confirm' d enough, 
; Though doubts did ever sleep. 


The gods sent not 
| Corn for the rich men only. 


There have been many great men that have flat- 
tered the people, who ne'er loved them ; and 
there be many that they have loved, they know 
not wherefore : so that if they love they know 
not why, they hate upon no better a ground. 



183 



Coriolanus. 
iii. — 1. 



Those cold ways, 
That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous 
Where the disease is violent. 



iv.— 1. 



| 'T is fond to wail inevitable strokes, 
i As ? t is to laugh at them. 



The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then 
We pout upon the morning, are unapt 
To give or to forgive ; but when we have stuff' d 
These pipes, and these conveyances of our blood, 
With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls 
Than in our priest-like fasts. 



Julius Caesar. 
i.— 2. 



i.— 3. 



ii.— 1. 



The eye sees not itself, 
But by reflection, by some other things. 



'T is meet 
That noble minds keep ever with their likes : 
For, who so firm that cannot be seduc'd ? 



Those that with haste will make a mighty fire 
Begin it with weak straws. 



The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins 
Remorse from power. 



184 



That we shall die we know ; ? t is but the time, 
And drawing days out, that men stand upon. 



The evil that men do lives after them ; 
The good is oft interred with their bones. 



There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune : 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows and in miseries. 



The nature of bad news infects the teller. 



Though it be honest, it is never good 
To bring bad news : Give to a gracious message 
An host of tongues ; but let ill tidings tell 
Themselves, when they be felt. 



To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be 
seen to move in 't, are the holes where eyes 
should be, which pitifully disaster the cheeks. 



The loyalty, well held to fools, does make 
Our faith mere folly. 



Julius Csesar. 
iii. — 1. 



iii.— 2. 



iv.— 3. 



There 's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. ! 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

i.— 1. 



i.— 2. 



ii. — 5. 



ii.-7. 



iii.— 11. 



185 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

iii—lt. 



iv.— 4. 



iv.— 11. 



Titus Andro- 
nicus. 

i.— 2. 



ii.— 3. 



iii. — 1. 



'T is better playing with a lion's whelp, 
Than with an old one dying. 



To be furious, 
Is to be frighted out of fear : and in that mood, 
The dove will peck the estridge. 



To business that we love we rise betime, 
And go to 't with delight. 



The soul and body rive not more in parting, 
Than greatness going off. 



Thanks to men 
Of noble minds is honourable meed. 



The raven doth not hatch a lark. 



To weep with them that weep doth ease some 

deal; 
But sorrow flouted at is double death. 



The eagle suffers little birds to sing, 

And is not careful what they mean thereby, 

Knowing that with the shadow of his wing 
He can at pleasure stint their melody. 



186 



Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, 
Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, 
Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear ; 
Things growing to themselves, are growth's abuse. 



Things out of hope are compass'd oft with ven- 
turing, 
Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission. 



They that thrive well take counsel of their friends. 



The lamp that burns by night 
Dries up his oil to lend the world his light. 



The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger. 



Those that much covet are with gain so fond, 
That what they have not, that which they possess 
They scatter and unloose it from their bond, 
And so, by hoping more, they have but less ; 
Or, gaining more, the profit of excess 
Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, 
That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain. 



The aim of all is but to nurse the life 

With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age ; 

And in this aim, there is such thwarting strife, 

That one for all, or all for one we gage ; 

As life for honour in fell battles' rage ; 



187 



Venus & Adonis. 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



Honour for wealth ; and oft that wealth doth 

cost 
The death of all, and all together lost. 

So that in vent'ring ill we leave to be 
The things we are, for that which we expect ; 
And this ambitious foul infirmity, 
In having much, torments us with defect 
Of that we have : so then we do neglect 
The thing we have, and, all for want of wit, 
Make something nothing, by augmenting it. 



True valour still a true respect should have. 



Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried. 



The aged man that coffers up his gold 
Is plagued with cramps, and gouts, and painful fits, 
And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold, 
But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, 
And useless barns the harvest of his wits ; 
Having no other pleasure of his gain 
But torment that it cannot cure his pain. 

So then he hath it, when he cannot use it, 
And leaves it to be master'd by his young, 
Who in their pride do presently abuse it : 
Their father was too weak, and they too strong, 
To hold their cursed-blessed fortune long. 

The sweets we wish for turn to loathed sours, 
Even in the moment that we call them ours. 



188 



Time's glory is to calm contending kings, 
To unmask falsehood, and bring truth to light, 
To stamp the seal of time in aged things, 
To wake the morn, and sentinel the night, 
To wrong the wronger till he render right ; 
To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours, 
And smear with dust their glittering golden 
towers : 



The Rape of 
Lucrece. 



To fill with worm-holes stately monuments, 
To feed oblivion with decay of things, 
To blot old books, and alter their contents, 
To pluck the quills from ancient ravens' wings, 
To dry the old oak's sap, and cherish springs ; 
To spoil antiquities of hammer'd steel, 
And turn the giddy round of Fortune's wheel; 

To show the beldame daughters of her daughter, 
To make the child a man, the man a child, 
To slay the tiger that doth live by slaughter, 
To tame the unicorn and lion wild, 
To mock the subtle, in themselves beguil'd ; 
To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops, 
And waste huge stones with little water-drops. 



The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 
That makes him honoured, or begets him hate ; 
For, greatest scandal waits on greatest state. 
The moon being clouded presently is miss'd, 
But little stars may hide them when they list. 



189 



The Rape of 
Lucrece. 



The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, 
And unperceiv'd fly with the filth away ; 
But if the like the snow-white swan desire, 
The stain upon his silver down will stay. 
Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious 
day. 
Gnats are unnoted whereso'er they fly, 
But eagles gaz'd upon with every eye. 



True grief is fond and testy as a child, 

Who wayward once, his mood with nought agrees. 

Old woes, not infant sorrows, bear them mild ; 

Continuance tames the one ; the other wild, 
Like an unpractis'd swimmer plunging still 
With too much labour drowns for want of skill. 



'T is double death to drown in ken of shore. 



To see the salve doth make the wound ache more. 



They that lose half with greater patience bear it 
Than they whose whole is swallow'd in confusion. 
That mother tries a merciless conclusion 

Who, having two sweet babes, when death 
takes one, 

Will slay the other, and be nurse to none. 



Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, 
Poor women's faces are their own faults' books. 



190 



That deep torture may be call'd a hell, 
When more is felt than one hath power to tell . 



To see sad sights moves more than hear them told ; 
For, then the eye interprets to the ear 
The heavy motion that it doth behold, 
When every part a part of woe doth bear. 
r T is but a part of sorrow that we hear : 

Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow 

fords, 
And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of 
words. 



They whose guilt within their bosoms lie 
Imagine every eye beholds their blame. 



The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief 
To him that bears the strong offence's cross. 



They that have power to hurt and will do none, 
That do not do the thing they most do show, 
Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, 
Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow ; 
They rightly do inherit Heaven's graces 
And husband nature's riches from expense ; 
They are the lords and owners of their faces, 
Others but stewards of their excellence. 
The summer's flower is to the summer sweet. 
Though to itself it only live and die ; 



191 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



Sonnets. 
34. 



94. 



Sonnets. 
94. 



95. 



101. 



102. 



But if that flower with base infection meet, 
The basest weed outbraves his dignity : 

For, sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; 

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds. 



The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge. 



Truth needs no colour with his colour fix'd, 
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay ; 
But best is best, if never intermix' d. 



That love is merchandiz'd, whose rich esteeming 
The owner's tongue doth publish everywhere. 



Pilgrim. The strongest castle, tower, and town, 



The golden bullet beats it down. 



192 



u. 

! Upon a homely object love can wink. 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

ii. — 4. 

ii.-6. 

Comedy of Errors 
v.— 1. 

King Henry VI. 
Part 1.— ii.— 2. 

King- Richard 

III. 

ii.— 3. 

Hamlet. 

ii.— 2. 

iii. — 4. 


Unheedful vows may needfully be broken ; 
i And he wants wit that wants resolved will 
1 To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better. 


Unquiet meals make ill digestions. 


Unbidden guests 
Are often welcomes t when they are gone. 

Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. 


Use every man after his desert, and who should 
'scape whipping ! 


Use almost can change the stamp of nature, 
And master the devil, or throw him out 
With wondrous potency. 



193 



Macbeth. 
v.— 1. 



Julius Cassar 
ii. — 1. 



The 



Unnatural deeds 
Do breed unnatural troubles. 



Unicorns may be betray' d with trees, 
And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, 
Lions with toils, and men with flatterers. 



Rape of Lucrece. Unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil. 



Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring ; 
Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flow- 
ers ; 
The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing : 
"What virtue breeds iniquity devours : 
We have no good that we can say is ours, 
But ill- annexed Opportunity 
Or kills his life, or else his quality. 

O Opportunity ! thy guilt is great : 

J T is thou that execut'st the traitor's treason ; 

Thou sett'st the wolf where he the lamb may get ; 

"Whoever plots the sin, thou point'st the season ; 

'T is thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason ; 
And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him, 
Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him. 



194 



Y. 

Very good orators, when they are out, they will 
spit ; and for lovers, lacking matter, the clean- 
liest shift is to kiss. 


As You Like It. 
iv.— 1. 

Measure for 
Measure, 
iii. — 1. 

King Kichard II. 
ii. — 1. 

Koraeo & Juliet. 
ii.-6. 

iv.— 1. 

Hamlet, 
i.— 3. 

i.— 5. 

1 


Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. 


Violent fires soon burn out themselves. 


Violent delights have violent ends, 
And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, 
i Which, as they kiss, consume. 


Venus smiles not in a house of tears. 


Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes. 


Virtue, as it never will be mov'd, 
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven ; 



195 



Hamlet. 



Troilus & Cres- 
sida. 

ii.-2. 



Julius Csesar. 
ii— 3. 



So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, 
Will sate itself in a celestial bed, 
And prey on garbage. 



Value dwells not in particular will ; 
It holds his estimate and dignity 
As well wherein 't is precious of itself 
As in the prizer ; 't is mad idolatry 
To make the service greater than the god ; 
And the will dotes that is inclinable 
To what infectiously itself affects, 
Without some image of the affected merit. 



Virtue cannot live 



Out of the teeth of emulation. 



196 



w. 

Who by repentance is not satisfied 

Is nor of heaven, nor earth ; for, these are pleas' d ; 

By penitence the Eternal's wrath 's appeas'd. 


Two Gentlemen 
of Verona. 

v.-4. 

Comedy of Errors 
ii. — 2. 

iii. — 1. 

Love's Labour 's 

Lost. 

iv.— 1. 

iv.— 3. 

All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

i.— 1. 


Were man 
But constant, he were perfect ; that one error 
Fills him with faults. 


When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, 
But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. 


Words are but wind. 


Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow. 


Who can sever love from charity ? 


Who ever strove 
To show her merit, that did miss her love ? 



197 



All 's Well That 
Ends Well. 

ii. — 3. 



ii.-5. 

A Midsummer 
Night's Dream. 

v.— 1. 



Taming- of the 
Shrew. 

ii.— 1. 



War is no strife 
To the dark house, and the detested wife.* 



We must do good against evil. 



What poor duty cannot do, 
Noble respect takes it in might, not merit.f 



Where two raging fires meet together, 
They do consume the thing that feeds their fury. 



Merchant of 

Venice. 

i.— 1. 



ii. — 6. 



iv. 1. 



Why should a man whose blood is warm within 
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? 
Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the jaundice 
By being peevish ? 



Who riseth from a feast, 
With that keen appetite that he sits down ? 
Where is the horse that doth untread again 
His tedious measures, with the unbated fire 
That he did pace them first ? 



We do pray for mercy ; 
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 
The deeds of mercy. 



» Compared " to the dark house," &c. 
t Takes the will for the deed. 



108 



What need the bridge much broader than the 

flood? 
The fairest grant is the necessity. 



Much Ado 
About Nothing. 

L— 1. 



Wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch 
jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace : the first 
suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full 
as fantastical ; the wedding, mannerly-modest, 
as a measure full of state and ancientry ; and 
then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, 
falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till 
he sink into his grave. 



When rich villains have need of poor ones, poor 
ones may make what price they will. 



When the age is in, the wit is out, 



ii. — 1. 



iii. — 3. 



iii. — 5 



Wives may be merry, and yet honest too. 



What cannot be eschew'd must be embrac'd. 



*Merry Wives of 

Windsor. 

iv.— 2. 



v.— 5. 



Words are very rascals, since bonds disgraced 
them. 



Who cries out on pride, 
That can therein tax any private party ? 
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, 



Twelfth Night. 
iii.— 1. 



As You Like It. 
ii.— 7. 



199 



As You Like It. 



Till that the weary very means do ebb ? 

What woman in the city do I name 

When that I say, The city- woman bears 

The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders ? 

Who can come in and say that I mean her, 

When such a one as she, such is her neighbour ? 

Or what is he of basest function, 

That says, his bravery is not on my cost, 

(Thinking that I mean him,) but therein suits 

His folly to the mettle of my speech ? 

There then ; How then ? what then ? Let me see 

wherein 
My tongue hath wrong' d him : if it do him right, 
Then he hath wrong' d himself; if he be free, 
Why, then my taxing like a wild goose flies, 
Unclaim'd of any man. 



We are not all alone unhappy : 
This wide and universal theatre 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play in. 



When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor 
a man's good wit seconded with the forward 
child, understanding, it strikes a man more 
dead than a great reckoning in a little room. 



Words do well, 
When he that speaks them, pleases those that 
hear. 



200 



We bid this be done, 
When evil deeds have their permissive pass, 
And not the punishment. 



When maidens sue 
Men give like gods; but when they weep and 

kneel, 
All their petitions are as freely theirs 
As they themselves would owe them. 



We must not make a scarecrow of the law, 
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, 
And let it keep one shape, till custom make it 
Their perch, and not their terror. 



We cannot weigh our brother with ourself. 



Wisdom wishes to appear most bright, 
When it doth tax itself: as these black masks 
Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder 
Than beauty could, displayed. 



What king so strong, 
Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ! 



When vice makes mercy, mercy 's so extended, 
That for the fault's love, is the offender friended. 



Measure for 

Measure. 

i.— 4. 



i.— 5. 



ii.-l. 



ii.— 2. 



ii.— 4. 



iii.— 2. 



iv.— 2. 



201 



A Winter's Tale. 



The Tempest. 
iv.— 1. 



King John, 
i.— 1. 



Will you take eggs for money ? * 



What 's gone, and what ? s past help, 
Should be past grief. 



iii. — 1. 



iv.— 2. 



King- Richard II 
i.— 3. 



We are such stuff 
■ As dreams are made on, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep. 



Who dares not stir by day, must walk by night. 



When law can do no right, 
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong. 



When fortune means to men most good, 
She looks upon them with a threatening eye. 



When workmen strive to do better than well, 

They do confound their skill in covetousness : 

And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault 

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse ; 

As patches, set upon a little breach, 

Discredit more in hiding of the fault, 

Than did the fault before it was so patch'd. 



Woe doth the heavier sit, 
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. 

* Will you submit to injustice ? 



202 



Who can hold a fire in his hand, 
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
By bare imagination of a feast ? 
Or wallow naked in December snow, 
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat ? 



With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder. 



Within the hollow crown 
That rounds the mortal temples of a king, 
Keeps Death his court ; and there the antic sits, 
Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp, — 
Allowing him a breath, a little scene 
To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks ; 
Infusing him with self and vain conceit, — 
As if this flesh, which walls about our life, 
Were brass impregnable, — and, humour'd thus, 
Comes at the last, and with a little pin 
Bores through his castle walls, and — farewell 
king ! 



Wise men ne'er wail their present woes, 
But presently prevent the ways to wail. 



What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight ? 



Wake not a sleeping wolf. 



King Richard II. 
i.— 3. 



h.— 1. 



iii. — 2. 



King Henry IV. 
Parti.— ii.— 4. 



Part 2. — i. — 2. 



203 



King Henry IV. 
Part 2.— iv.— 4. 



King Henry V. 
iii. — 3. 



iii. — 6. 



iv.— 1. 



Will Fortune never come with both hands full, 
But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? 
She either gives a stomach, and no food, — 
Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast, 
And takes away the stomach, — such are the rich, 
That have abundance, and enjoy it not. 



What rein can hold licentious wickedness 
When down the hill he holds his fierce career ? 



When lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the 
gentler gamester is the soonest winner. 



What infinite heart's ease must kings neglect, 

That private men enjoy? 

And what have kings that privates have not too, 

Save ceremony, save general ceremony ? 

And what art thou, thou idol ceremony ? 

What kind of god art thou, that suffer st more 

Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers ? 

What are thy rents ? what are thy comings-in ? 

O ceremony, show me but thy worth ! 

What is thy soul of adoration ? 

Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, 

Creating awe and fear in other men ? 

Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd 

Than they in fearing. 

What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, 

But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness, 



204 



And bid thy ceremony give thee cure ! 

Think' st thou, the fiery fever will go out 

With titles blown from adulation ? 

Will it give place to flexure and low bending ? 

Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's 

knee, 
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream, 
That play'st so subtly with a king's repose ; 
I am a king that find thee ; and I know, 
'T is not the balm, the sceptre, and the ball, 
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial, 
The inter-tissued robe of gold and pearl, 
The farced title running 'fore the king, 
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp 
That beats upon the high shore of this world, 
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony, 
Not all these, laid in bed majestical, 
Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave 
Who, with a body fill'd, and vacant mind, 
Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread : 
Never sees horrid night, the child of hell ; 
But, like a lackey, from the rise to set, 
Sweats in the eye of Phoebus, and all night 
Sleeps in Elysium ; next day, after dawn, 
Doth rise, and help Hyperion to his horse ; 
And follows so the ever-running year, 
With profitable labour, to his grave. 



King- Henry V. 
iv.— 1. 



What is wedlock forced but a hell, 
An age of discord and continual strife ? 



King Henry VI. 
Parti.— v.— 5. 



205 



King Henry YI. 
Part 1.— v.— 5, 



Part 2. — iii. — 1. 



iii.— 2. 



Part 3.— iv.— 3. 



v.— 2. 



Whereas the contrary bringeth forth bliss, 
And is a pattern of celestial peace. 



Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit ? 



What 's more miserable than discontent ? 



Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding fresh, 
And sees fast by a butcher with an axe, 
But will suspect 't was he that made the slaugh- 
ter ? 
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, 
But may imagine how the bird was dead, 
Although the kite soar with unblooded beak ? 



What stronger breast-plate than a heart un- 
tainted ? 



What fates impose, that men must needs abide ; 
It boots not to resist both wind and tide. 



When the fox hath once got in his nose, 
He '11 soon find means to make the body follow. 



What is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? 
And, live we how we can, yet die we must. 



206 



Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, 
But cheerly seek how to redress their harms. 



What cannot be avoided, 
'T were childish weakness to lament or fear. 



Wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. 



When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks. 



Without characters,* fame lives long. 



Why should calamity be full of words ? 
Windy attorneys to their client woes, 
Airy succeeders of intestate joys, 
Poor breathing orators of miseries ! 
Let them have scope : though what they do im- 
part 
Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart. 



We may outrun, 
By violent swiftness, that which we run at. 
And lose by over-running. 



We must not stint 
Our necessary actions, in the fear 
To cope malicious censurers. 

* Without characters — without the aid of written memorials. 



King Henry VI. 
Part 3.— v.— 4. 



King Richard 
III. 

i.— 3. 



iii.-l. 



iv.— 4. 



King ; Henry 
VIII. 

i.— 1. 



i.— 2. 



207 



Kin? Henry 
VIII. 

L— 2. 


What we oft do best, 




By sick interpreters, once* weak ones, is 




Not ours, or not allow'd ; what worst, as oft, 




Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up 




For our best act. 


it— 1. 


Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, 




Be sure you be not loose ; for, those you make 




friends, 




And give your hearts to, when they once perceive 




The least rub in your fortunes, fall away 




Like water from ye, never found again 


Romeo & Juliet. 


But where they mean to sink ye. 




ii.— 2. 


What 's in a name ? that which we call a rose, 


ii. — 3. 

Hamlet. 


By any other name would smell as sweet. 


What love can do, that dares love attempt. 


Women may fall, when there 's no strength in men. 




ii.— 2. 


What a piece of work is a man ! How noble in 




reason ! how infinite in faculty ! in form and 




moving, how express and admirable ! in ac- 




tion, how like an angel! in apprehension, how 




like a god ! the beauty of the world ! the par- 




agon of animals ! 




* Once — sometimes. 



208 



Why should the poor be flatter'd? 
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp ; 
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, 
Where thrift may follow fawning. 


Hamlet, 
iii — 2. 

iii. — 3. 

iv. — 4. 

iv. — 5. 

Cymbeline. 
ii. — 3. 


Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear ; 
Where little fears grow great, great love grows 
there. 


Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. 


What is a man, 
If his chief good, and market of his time, 
Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. 
Sure, he, that made us with such large discourse, 
Looking before, and after, gave us not 
That capability and godlike reason 
To fust in us unus'd. 


We know what we are, but know not what we 
may be. 


When sorrows come, they come not single spies, 
But in battalions ! \ 


Winning will put any man into courage. 



209 



Cymbeline. 


j 


iii.— 6. 


Weariness 




Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth 


Othello. 


Finds the down pillow hard. 




L— 1. 


We cannot all be masters, nor all masters 


i.— 3. 


Cannot be truly follow' d. 


When remedies are past, the griefs are ended, 




By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. 


What cannot be preserv'd when fortune takes, 


ii. — 3. 


Patience her injury a mockery makes. 


When devils will the blackest sins put on, 


King- Lear. 


They do suggest at first with heavenly shows. 


What wound did ever heal but by degrees ? 




ii.— 4. 


When others are more wicked, not being the 




worst 


iii. — 4. 


Stands in some rank of praise. 


Where the greater malady is fix'd, 




The lesser is scarce felt. Thou 'dst shun a bear, 




But if thy flight lay toward the roaring sea, 




Thou 'dst meet the bear i' the mouth. When the 




mind 's free 




The body 's delicate. 



210 



When we our betters see bearing our woes, 
We scarcely think our miseries our foes. 
Who alone suffers, suffers most i' the mind ; 
Leaving free things, and happy shows, behind : 
But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip 
When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship. 



Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile : 
Filths savour but themselves. 



When we are born, we cry, that we are come 
To this great stage of fools. 



Woes, by wrong imaginations lose 
The knowledge of themselves. 



Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. 



When our actions do not, 
Our fears do make us traitors. 



When we for recompense have prais'd the vile, 
It stains the glory in that happy verse 
Which aptly sings the good. 



King- Lear, 
iii— 6. 



iv.— 2. 



iv. — 6. 



Macbeth. 
ii.—l. 



iv.— 2. 



Timon of Athens 
L— 1. 



What need we have any friends, if we should 
ne'er have need of them ? they were the most 



i.— 2. 



211 



Tinion of Athens 




i.— 2. 


needless creatures living should we ne'er have 




use for them : and would most resemble sweet 




instruments hung up in cases, that keep their 




sounds to themselves. 


iii.— 3. 


Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. 


iii.— 4. 


Who can speak broader than he that has no house 




to put his head in ? Such may rail against great 


iii. — 5. 
iv. — 3. 


buildings. 


Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood ? 


Who dares, who dares, 




In purity of manhood stand upright, 




And say, " This man 's a flatterer " ? If one be, 




So are they all ; for, every grize* of fortune 




Is smooth' d by that below : the learned pate 




Ducks to the golden fool. 


Willing misery 




Outlives incertain pomp, is crown' d before : 




The one is filling still, never complete ; 




The other, at high wish : Best state, contentless, 




Hath a distracted and most wretched being, 




Worse than the worst, content. 




* Grize — degree. 



212 





Timon of Athens 


What man didst thou ever know unthrift that was 


iv.— 3. 


beloved after his means ? 

1 




What viler thing upon the earth, than friends, 


Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends. 


v.— 1. 


When the day serves, before black- corner' d night, 


Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. 






Troilus and Ores- 
sida. 




Women are angels, wooing : 


i.-2. 


Things won are done, joy's soul lies in the doing ; 




! That she belov'd knows nought that knows not 




this, — 




Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is : 




That she was never yet that ever knew 




j Love got so sweet, as when desire did sue. 


ii, — 2. 


We may not think the justness of each act 


Such and no other than event doth form it. 


iii.— 2. 
Pericles. 


Words pay no debts. 




Who hath a book of all that monarchs do, 


L— 1. 


He 's more secure to keep it shut, than shown : 




For, vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind, 




Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself. 


i.— 4. 


Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit. 



213 



Pericles. 
iii.— 3. 



Coriolanus. 
ii.— 1. 



ii. — 3. 



iv.— 1. 



v.— 4. 



Julius Csesar. 
ii.— 2. 



iv.-2. 



We cannot but obey 
The powers above us. 



We call a nettle but a nettle ; 
And the faults of fools but folly. 



What custom wills, in all things should we do 't ? 
The dust on antique time would lie un swept, 
And mountainous error be too highly heap'd 
For truth to overpeer. 



When the sea is calm, all boats alike 
Show mastership in floating. 



We have all 
Great cause to give great thanks. 



What can be avoided 
Whose end is purpos'd by the mighty gods ? 



When love begins to sicken and decay, 
It useth an enforced ceremony. 
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith : 
But hollow men, like horses hot at hand, 
Make gallant show and promise of their mettle : 
But when they should endure the bloody spur, 
They fall their crests, and, like deceitful jades, 
Sink in the trial. 



214 



Words before blows. 



What our contempts do often hurl from us, 
We wish it ours again ; the present pleasure, 
By revolution lowering, does become 
The opposite of itself. 



We, ignorant of ourselves, 
Beg often our own harms, w r hich the wise powers 
Deny us for our good ; so find we profit, 
By losing of our prayers. 



When good will is show'd, though 't come 
too short, 
The actor may plead pardon. 



Who seeks, and will not take, when once 't is 

offer'd, 
Shall never find it more. 



Who does i' the wars more than his captain can 
Becomes his captain's captain ; and ambition, 
The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, 
Than gain which darkens him. 



Wisdom and fortune combating together, 
If that the former dare but what it can, 
No chance may shake it. 



Julius Csesar. 
v.— 1. 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 
i.— 2. 



ii. — 5. 



ii. — 7. 



iii.-l. 



iii. — 11. 



215 



Antony and Cle- 
opatra. 

m.— u. 



iv.— 13. 



v.— 2. 



Titus Andro- 
nicus. 



v.— 3. 



The 
Rape of Lucrece. 



When we in our viciousness grow hard, 

(0 misery on 't !) the wise gods seel our eyes 

In our own filth ; drop our clear judgments ; make 

us 
Adore our errors ; laugh at us, while we strut 
To our confusion. 



When valour preys on reason, 
It eats the sword it fights with. 



Wishers were ever fools. 



What poor an instrument 



May do a noble deed ! 



When no friends are by, men praise themselves. 



Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week ? 
Or sells eternity to get a toy ? 



A Lover's Com- 
plaint. 



Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw 
Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe. 



Will is deaf, and hears no heedful friends. 



What 's sweet to do, to do will aptly find. 



216 



Y. 

Young blood doth not obey an old decree. 


Love's Labour 's 
Lost. 

iv.— 3. 

All 's Well That 

Ends Well. 

i.— 1. 

Twelfth Night, 
iii. — 4. 

As You Like It. 
v. — 4. 

King Richard II. 
ii. — 1. 

Hamlet. 

iii.— 2. 

iv.— 3. 


Your date is better in your pie and your porridge 
than in your cheek. 


Youth is bought more oft, than begg'd or borrow' d. 


Your If is the only peacemaker ; much virtue in If 


Young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the more. 


You do freely bar the door of your own liberty, if 
you deny your griefs to your friend. 


Your worm is your only emperor for diet : we fat 
all creatures else, to fat us ; and we fat our- 
selves for maggots : Your fat king, and your 



217 



Hamlet. 




iv.— 3. 


lean beggar, is but variable service; two dishes, 




but to one table ; that 's the end. 


iv.— 7. 


Youth no less becomes 




The light and careless livery that it wears, 




Than settled age his sables, and his weeds, 


v.— 1. 
Julius Caesar. 


Importing health and graveness. 


Your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating. 




iv.— 3. 


Young bloods look for a time of rest. 




THE END. 




4 




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